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[cassidyafton]

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[cassidyafton]

M.I.A.: Chapter 6

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: After letting the mission go for a night, Trinity is ready to return to the hunt for her family, but finds her friends are starting to have doubts about it.

She could hear the whispers behind her back the next day at school, the stares pressing against her. Trinity sighed, focusing on her breathing and each next step she took. She did her best to ignore the people watching her, mumbling among themselves about whether she'd done something to herself to make it happen, or even made the whole thing up, just to get people to pay attention to her. It felt physically claustrophobic in a way she couldn't explain.

It had been another morning of waking up alone in an empty house, almost forgetting in the midst of confusing and bizarre nightmares what had really happened to her. What had really happened to her family. Enzo and Maritza had provided a distraction last night, but it only lasted so long before that sense of loneliness set back in. You're not alone, the note had warned, but even with her friends, Trinity was starting to feel like she was.

Where were her friends? None of them had been here this morning- she hadn't seen Enzo and Maritza since last night, and everyone else since yesterday afternoon.

"Finch!"

She barely caught her as she walked by, stopping to look questioningly at Trinity and then wave.

"Finch, have you seen my friends? Enzo, Maritza? Ivan? Any of them?"

Finch rolled her eyes, almost as if she was annoyed this was the only reason Trinity wanted to speak to her. "Nope. I don't really pay attention to that kinda crap. Figured it was your job to wrangle everyone."

"What... happened yesterday?"

The way Finch looked at Trinity told her she was considering lying. Trinity brushed it off.

"Well, you tripped out and had a seizure in the clubroom, got wheeled out on a stretcher, and we all had to clear the halls. Scared the hell out of your boyfriend."

Trinity wasn't quite certain which friend Finch was referring to with that, but she had to assume it was Enzo. She considered correcting her, but figured it wasn't the most pressing matter on her hands right now.

"Anyway, apparently some crazy stuff was happening all around, because all of your friends left a few minutes later." She crossed her arms. "All of them except Nick."

Nicky! Of course. Nicky had to know something. She just had to find him, and maybe if he was feeling like himself again, he would help her.

It was hard to say, though. There was always the chance Nicky wasn't himself anymore, and maybe never would be.

She tried not to think that the version of her friend she had grown so close with had died in that dingy basement in the time it had taken her to save him.

She tried not to think that a similar or worse fate was awaiting her family.

"What about Nicky, then? Have you seen him?"

Finch frowned, looking at Trinity like she was stupid. "I just said I don't pay attention to your friends. If you wanna find him, you're own your own."

Trinity sighed. "Thanks anyway, Finch."

Well, she'd call him later, or maybe the others. Last time with Nicky hadn't gone so well. In the meantime, there had to be something she could do without the others to work with her. If Maritza and Enzo were dealing with their parents, and everyone else was just as absent, there had to be something Trinity could do.

She wandered along down the hallway, as if being led by the Imbir from her dream. It was a few minutes before it hit her- something she could investigate before she had to find the others. Something that'd been swept under the rug by Mr. Peterson's actions. Something right at the school. She turned and started for the boiler room.

She wasn't going to be going to class today.

The tunnels under the school, just where Nicky had said they'd be, were exactly as Nicky had described them. Like a huge, gaping maw of some beast that lived under the school, they towered in front of Trinity as a slow chill worked its way under her skin.

She couldn't afford to be afraid. There was no backing down. She climbed down the mound of dirt between the opening and the rest of the tunnels and looked for her next move.

It was a few minutes before she heard the shuffling around behind her. The footsteps were too small and firm to be Abanante or Crowface, but someone was here with her. She turned around slowly, reaching into her backpack for anything she could arm herself with.

"You're just like Nicky," Delroy scoffed.

"Delroy?" She didn't even take in his words, or process that she should probably be offended on both her own behalf and Nicky's. She sighed, pulling her empty hand out of her backpack. "Did you follow me down here?"

"Saw you headed for the boiler room." Delroy shrugged. "I figured Nicky must've told you about the weird mine down here."

"You think it's a mine?" She asked. "It looks more to me like a tunnel system."

"I'm starting to think a lot of things look like conspiracies to you, Trinity." He crossed his arms, as if disappointed in her. She bristled. Who was he to be judging her?

"I'm sorry, my parents could be dead, and you're more preoccupied with, what, assuming I'm just crazy? These past few days have been nuts and it started as soon as my parents disappeared. Can't we at least agree that's not a coincidence?"

"Yeah, I guess we can." He didn't sound convinced. "You're barking up the wrong tree here, that's all I'm saying."

"Then what's your problem?"

He looked at her, then away. She barely heard it.

"Dead parents don't hide from their kids."

She narrowed her eyes, tensing up slightly. She knew exactly what he was implying. She didn't question his line of thought any further, though. There was no time to be thinking about something like that. Her family needed her.

"Whatever." She started off down the tunnels again. "I'm gonna meet up with everyone tonight to talk about everything that happened yesterday. If you think this is a lost cause, then don't come. We don't need the dead weight."

"You're going the wrong direction," Delroy returned, and with that, he left.

Trinity stopped, looking ahead of her, and it began to occur to her that she had no idea where she was headed or when she should stop.

She carried on forward anyway.

It was when half an hour had passed and she'd made it nowhere that she decided to follow her own footprints and leave. Sighing, she turned to leave, and that was when she noticed it. She pulled her phone out to take a picture, zooming in on the set of footprints that was following hers.

Someone was in here. Someone she hadn't heard moving, somehow, and that told her Crowface must've been playing some sort of trick on her.

It was taunting her now, and something about that terrified her. Shuddering with a sudden anxiety, she nearly dropped her phone as she took the picture, and then she turned and ran back toward the entrance.

Once the tunnels were safely behind her- and that took a while- she opened her phone to text someone, let them know they needed to talk as soon as possible.

Then she stopped herself halfway, wondering if they would think she was crazy.

Instead, she wrote, if any of you are free, we need to talk about everything tonight. Let's meet at the amusement park.

Even without the urgency, she still wondered. She wondered how many of them viewed her like that.

Trinity Bales had thought for a long time that something must be wrong with her, but never spoken a word about it to anyone.

Sometimes, she wondered if everyone knew it just as well as she did.

[cassidyafton]

REIMAGINATION: CHAPTER 13

Summary: A dark reinterpretation of the events of the Mr. Hopp's Playhouse series.

Chapter summary: The aftermath.

Molly Caswell woke up on Christmas morning on the floor of the children's room with a pounding headache.

In fact, it wasn't just her head- every inch of her body was sore and aching, like something terrible had just happened, but nothing had. There everyone was, all grouped up in the children's bedroom for some reason, some people seeming to be rubbing at odd marks and scabs on their bodies. Even Sister Beverley, who seemed uncharacteristically frazzled and quiet, was there. So Molly disregarded the headache and soreness and stretched herself out.

"What happened?" She mumbled to Isaac.

"Did something happen?" He responded. "Where's Esther?"

"I don't know. We should find her before breakfast so she doesn't get in trouble."

"A-ah, right." Sister Beverley shook her head. "Breakfast needs to be prepared. Children, you'll have a little extra time before breakfast this morning. We'll call you all when it's ready. There will be no missing grace today."

"Alright, then." Molly frowned, turning to her housemates. "Has anyone seen Esther?"

"I'm right here."

Molly wouldn't have recognized the voice had she said anything else. It didn't quite sound like Esther, but there she was, holding some stuffed rabbit like it was the most precious thing on the planet. Her eyes looked... dull, in a way that Molly couldn't explain. But she smiled, and so Molly and Isaac smiled back.

"Merry Christmas, you two," she said, her tone not quite flat, but not quite happy. "Why don't we play a game before breakfast?"

"We could play hide and seek again!" Isaac suggested.

Right. Their last game of hide-and-seek hadn't been too great for Esther. In fact, as she remembered, nothing had been too great for Esther the last few days. She remembered nightmares, she remembered hearing her cry, and now, she looked exhausted.

"I'll count this time," she offered, because it was the least she could do.

"Sure thing." Esther grinned. "Mr. Hopp and I will go hide in the library!"

She held out her free hand, and Molly took note of a necklace that she'd never seen on Esther's neck.

"Isaac, are you coming?"

[cassidyafton]

REIMAGINATION: CHAPTER 12

Summary: A dark reinterpretation of the events of the Mr. Hopp's Playhouse series.

Chapter summary: Esther finally faces off against the source of the curse infesting the Blacklands Manor Orphanage.

Esther could hardly process what was happening until it did. Grinding her foot into the salt circle on the floor to dissipate it and let whatever they'd brought into this world in, Desdemona turned and swung at her, but she didn't quite look like Desdemona anymore. Her smile was too wide, eyes too beady, face concealed by a dark shadow.

There was something sharp in the hand she had swung at Esther with.

"What are you doing?!" Esther cried. "Stop it! Don't do this!"

Desdemona didn't answer, she just kept forcing the sharp edge in her clawed hand closer and closer to Esther.

"Dessie," Esther begged, letting herself tear up, anything to get her friend back, but the girl's smile stayed just as prideful and excited as it had been before.

"Isabelle," she corrected, and Esther's eyes went wide. She'd recognized the paintings in her dream. They weren't of some random girl, some figure Esther thought she knew. They were of Isabelle Hemlock.

They were of Dessie.

"You're a stubborn thing, Esther," Isabelle spat. "You Mayfields always are. I should've wiped out your damned bloodline in the almshouse fire ages ago. Those ancestors of yours were never meant to escape."

She laughed. "No worries. My lord and I will make up for what we missed back then."

The sharp edge dug into Esther's neck.

She saw red, then black.

-

She woke up in a pink bedroom that looked completely unfamiliar to her.

It wasn't one of the bedrooms in the manor, that much was obvious- there were only a few bedrooms in Blacklands Manor Orphanage that had only one bed, and none of them were pink. On top of that, this bed was more akin to something from the children's room than the adults' rooms- its only difference being the nice pink bedding and pillows compared to the plain white of the children's room in the manor.

The kind of bedroom Esther wished she could've had. That didn't bring her any close to knowing where she was.

"What... is this place?"

From outside the door, she could hear Mr. Hopp's music box.

Isabelle.

Of course, this was all Isabelle's doing; it had to be. She had to find her, to make her undo all of this and save everyone else from the manor. Her and that monster she called Bael, they had to stop it. She had to make them.

She hurried toward the door to the bedroom, stopping only when her eyes fell on something that shocked her.

A calendar, open to April 2019.

"What?"

That couldn't be right. That was well over sixty years from now. Who would own such a thing? Where was she? What time was she in?

She opened the door, and found herself at the top of a stairwell in a house full of blue halls.

Traversing the open floor was not Mr. Hopp but something that Esther had never seen.

On eight spidery legs, the figure of something that could only be Bael stood. With three heads blending into one, faces not quite fitting onto any of them, it stared her down. One head a cat, one a man, one that slimy, warty toad she'd seen in her nightmare what felt like ages ago.

Then it shifted. One head a tiger, one a panda, one a rabbit.

It smiled widely.

Before she could move to run away, a massive hand- the same one that had crushed Sister Beverley- grabbed her, just gently enough to not break her bones. 

"Wake up, Esther," it- no, he taunted in a raspy voice. "This is all just a dream, isn't it?"

"What do you want from me?!" Esther yelled out.

Isabelle didn't look like she had before when she appeared. With a dark shadow obscuring everything but her white eyes, almost none of her features could be made out anymore. She was nothing but an abyss, sucking the light and life out of the area around her.

In her arms, the three toys. Miss Bo, Mr. Stripes, and Mr. Hopp.

Esther didn't realize at first, hanging off the ground like she was, that Isabelle wasn't touching the ground. She was hovering several feet above to meet Esther's line of sight.

"Won't you play with us?" Isabelle taunted.

Esther squirmed, trying to break free of Bael's grasp. She shut her eyes tightly, like she had before, but she knew this time that there would be no end to it. "Where are the others? What did you do? Tell me how to stop it!"

"You're just like me, Esthie."

"I'm nothing like you!"

"I feel your pain. Give yourself to us."

"Just leave me alone!"

When she opened her eyes again, she was back in the library. Her hands were shaking. Was she alone now? Where were Isabelle and Bael? Where was anyone?

No more games. She grabbed the necklace that Isabelle had left on the floor, paying little mind to the scratch that Isabelle's attack had left on her neck.

"Bael!" She yelled.

She tried not to recoil when he crawled his way through the library door with Isabelle in tow. He was bigger than the monstrous Mr. Hopp had been, hardly fitting into the doorway as he squeezed himself in.

"We're done here." She locked her knees to keep herself from shaking, did her best to stop her voice from wavering, and prayed in her mind as she spoke. "It's me you want, isn't it? A new vessel?"

"We want you to give yourself to us," Isabelle repeated. "We feel your pain, Esthie. Your hurt. We can make it go away."

"Fine. Under one circumstance." She put the necklace around her neck, praying to whoever might be listening that she wasn't making a mistake. "I'll give you the vessel you want if you save everyone you've taken from the manor! Deal?"

"Deal," Bael repeated, reaching out a hand. Esther took it with a nod, and as soon as she heard the voices and chatter growing from the children's room, she yanked her hand away and ran for the toys and the salt circle, what remained of it at least. She grabbed the salt container, pouring out its remains with shaky hands to reform the protective circle. She could feel Bael pounding at her again, roaring with anger.

"What are you doing?!" He yelled as she gripped the necklace tightly. "We had a deal!"

"Your new vessel is right here for you!" She held up Mr. Hopp. "As long as these medallions have the power to control yours, you will never be able to leave!"

Bael screamed, pounding at her with a force she could hardly even comprehend, but she kept her strength, until...

It stopped. Isabelle's figure flickered and faded with one final furious hiss, powerless without her master, and Bael was gone.

The children's room. She just had to make it to the children's room. She took a step forward...

And her body didn't move.

No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not after everything. She just wanted to go home. She wanted to go back to bed, to wake up and spend time with her friends again. She would take anything, even Sister Beverley, as long as it meant real life; as long as it meant this wasn't happening to her.

She knew what she was seeing wasn't real. Another dream, a dream she couldn't wake up from. Something she couldn't feel wrapped around her arms, pulling her back, pulling, pulling...

She watched herself get pulled down nonexistent hallways in the version of the manor that only existed in her mind. She couldn't move her real body. She couldn't see it. Finally, it stopped, wrapping her up in a cross shape against a wall that wasn't there, and as she sobbed in pain and horrified confusion, she heard the voice.

"It's not fun playing with a cheat, Esther!"

[cassidyafton]

REIMAGINATION: CHAPTER 11

Summary: A dark reinterpretation of the events of the Mr. Hopp's Playhouse series.

Chapter summary: When Esther finds Isaac and Molly and loses everything, her only remaining friend promises she can make it all better.

Chapter warnings: description of dead bodies/implied child death, child abuse, and implied violent death. The dead body description starts at "carefully, she put the key in and turned it, then opened the door" and ends at "she had to believe it, because she knew every bit of her resolve would shatter if she didn't." The child abuse is canon-typical (the way Beverley speaks to and about the children and the cellar thing). The death starts at "The light above them began to flicker" and ends at "Esther shakily stood up and headed toward the door."

She found them in the closet in the West second floor bedroom.

Well, maybe found was the wrong word. She never did see them, but she heard them, whispering from the closet something she didn't recognize. Their voices overlapping, it was hard to make out what either of them was saying.

"Molly? Isaac? Are you in there?"

"Esther," Isaac whispered, as if he couldn't find the strength to speak any louder, "they locked us in here. Please, let us out..."

"Okay." Esther's eyes darted back and forth for anywhere the key could be, as she set Mr. Hopp down on a dresser. "Don't worry. I'm going to get you out of there, okay?"

After a minute or two of opening drawers, she found the key in a nightstand.

"I've got it!" She turned back to the closet door. Carefully, she put the key in and turned it, then opened the door.

What came tumbling out were two soulless, lifeless bodies.

If it weren't for their hair and clothes, Esther was certain she wouldn't recognize them. Where their eyes had been were dull black voids, their tear ducts, noses and mouths dripped a brown fluid, and across their entire body were sores. Sores and holes in their very flesh, revealing that same black void under their skin. Their skin hung off of them, as if whatever remained underneath their skin was too small for it. Only the most basic remains of what had once made them Molly and Isaac remained.

Esther screamed, she couldn't help it. Not the way she screamed, not the way it gave out into a sob. She had to be dreaming. This had to be some nightmare. She would wake up soon, and Molly and Isaac would be alive. That was all this was, it had to be.

She had to believe it, because she knew every bit of her resolve would shatter if she didn't.

When she heard the door open again, it tore her attention briefly away from what remained of Isaac and Molly, and she looked up to see Sister Beverley staring her down.

"I warned you, didn't I, Esther?!" Sister Beverley barked. "Come with me, now!"

"Sister Beverley!" Esther cried. "Molly and Isaac-"

She turned her attention back to where their bodies had been, and found nothing.

"Enough excuses!" Sister Beverley grabbed her wrist and pulled her away, leaving her no time to grab Mr. Hopp.

-

The bed in the cellar had only a single blanket and no sheet to it, and it sat directly under a dim lightbulb. Esther sat down on the bed, hugging herself to try not to think about her missing Mr. Hopp.

"Someone will come get you at seven." Sister Beverley crossed her arms and frowned. "Don't look so hurt, Esther. This is your own fault."

There was a skittering sound from the doorway to their side. Esther didn't dare look.

"I was trying to help my friends," Esther insisted. "I didn't mean to-"

"Didn't I tell you enough excuses?"

The light above them began to flicker.

"Awful child. This ought to teach you to behave!"

The light went out, and Esther barely saw in the low light as a massive hand reached out from the doorway and grabbed Sister Beverley.

It wasn't quite like Sibley's death from her dream; it wasn't drawn-out, it wasn't slow. The it echoed through the cellar for only a second, and instead of a scream, there was only a cut-off gasp, then the sound of her body being crushed all at once.

Blood dripped from the hand as it pulled what Esther could only assume was what little remained of Sister Beverley away, and when the light flickered again, Esther could make out a shadowy, massive figure that let out a low growl. Its skin was smooth, slimy, and furry all at once, like it was constantly changing shape, or had multiple shapes all at the same time.

Esther shakily stood up and headed toward the door. It wasn't safe to be down here, that was for certain. Something was roaming, something that had killed Sister Beverley and was going to kill her if she wasn't careful.

Her eyes were scanning back and forth, watching the open doorway into the rest of the cellar where the laundry room and boiler were as she passed it, but no sooner had she taken a few steps than she felt the ground suddenly shake. Something was in the room with her, something massive, something that looked... vaguely rabbit-like.

She turned toward the doorway.

"Mr. Hopp?" She whispered.

"Esther."

It wasn't Mr. Hopp that answered. She looked ahead, and there was Mr. Stripes, but not the way she'd seen him, not ever before. He was gigantic, standing at easily seven or eight feet tall, with large fangs, yellow eyes in black voids, and in one hand...

Esther kept her eyes away from his hand.

He opened his mouth, and out came a crude imitation of Isaac's voice. "Do you want to play hide-and-seek with us?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head wildly. Again, she was dreaming, this was all a nightmare, because while she may have been in denial before, this was just not possible. When she opened her eyes, Mr. Stripes and Isaac were gone.

"Come on, Esther!" Another voice said, and she recognized that one too. Scrambling to find the source of the voice and brace for any danger, she saw Miss Bo, just as massive and contorted as Mr. Stripes and Mr. Hopp had been.

It was impossible to look away from Molly's body hanging in her arms like a puppet.

"We just want to play!" Miss Bo taunted, her voice not quite Molly's, and Esther stumbled back, nearly losing her balance. With the bottom of her palm, she began to hit herself in the side of the head.

"Wake up, Esther!" She cried. "Wake up!"

The ache she felt in her head was as real as the sickening dread in her chest and stomach. It twisted, tightened, pulling her insides with it, and Esther knew she wasn't going to wake up anytime soon. Miss Bo was gone when she looked back up, and Esther didn't waste any time sprinting to the door, yanking it open and throwing herself up the stairs to...

An empty manor.

At first, she wanted to convince herself that it was past midnight, that the matrons had given up their patrols and everyone had gone to sleep, but she knew better. It was barely ten. She knew why everyone was gone, and she knew what she'd find if she went to the children's room.

"Esther?" Another familiar voice called, and Esther breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn't alone, and it wasn't the voice of the toys or the thing in the cellar- at least, she prayed it wasn't. It was the voice of her friend. "Esther! Are you there?"

"Dessie!" Esther called back. "I'm coming, Dessie!"

"I'm in the library!" Dessie called. "Come quickly!"

"I'm on my way!"

Her legs ached from all the walking and running she'd done the past days with hardly any food to power her body, but she hurried toward the library anyway, before something could take Dessie away from her, and she couldn't help the smile that crossed her face when she saw not the monster toys or the thing in the cellar but just Dessie, alive and alone, in the library.

She ran to Dessie and embraced her. Silently thanked God that she was still here. She couldn't do this alone, not after everything.

When Dessie pulled away, she cupped Esther's face in one hand.

"You've seen it, haven't you?"

Esther nodded. "It took everyone. It took all my friends, it- it even took Mr. Hopp."

"I know." Dessie frowned. "We were right. Something evil is in this house. But listen." She took Esther's face in both hands. "I can stop it. We can stop Bael and save everyone. I only need one thing."

"What is it?"

Dessie put one hand on Esther's rosary necklace and felt the cross on it.

"Your necklace. The one with the medallions."

"The medallions?" Esther echoed. "That's not..."

"It's got two Celtic shield knots and the sigil of Bael. You remember it, don't you?"

Esther nodded.

Dessie offered her hand out. "I can keep you safe in the meantime. Let's go."

-

By the time that they made it back to the library, Esther had noticed something she hadn't before on her rosary necklace: on the back of the cross, the same phrase she'd seen on the box in the bedroom. Reis-Nichols.

Still unsure what it meant, Esther tried not to think about it, but she couldn't help but think of Dessie's phrasing. Your necklace; the one with the medallions. Your necklace.

Reis-Nichols. Whatever Reis-Nichols was, Esther was no longer confident that this rosary necklace had ever belonged to her mother.

Dessie carried the necklace they needed back to the library, where Esther realized she had prepared for something. Salt, three candles, a matchbox, and a bowl of sage sat on the floor of the library, and Esther wondered how she'd missed them before.

"Sit down," Dessie instructed, and Esther complied as Dessie began to pour a circle of salt around her, leaving space for herself to sit. "Rituals like this produce negative energy. This will stop any spirits or demons from harming us." 

The three candles were lit around the circle, then Dessie sat down across from Esther, lit the sage, and held her hands out for Esther to take. Esther carefully and cautiously took Dessie's hands, and closed her eyes when Dessie did.

The ground around them began to shake.

She opened her eyes when she felt something pounding against her back. With a yelp, she jumped to her feet. She could see the shadow from behind her, but didn't dare look back.

The thing behind her growled.

"Give yourself to us," it whispered.

"Dessie!" She cried. "What do I do? Can't this go any faster?"

Dessie frowned. "Leave it be."

"What if it gets to me?"

Dessie frowned. "Sit back down and leave it be, Esthie."

Esther nodded. She sat for one minute, two, three, as Dessie prayed fervently and increasingly frustratedly, mumbling words that Esther couldn't make out more and more frantically. She ignored the pounding on her back as it got worse and worse, until the thing behind her growled again and the shadow faded.

Finally, the pair stood up in silence, Dessie's back turned to Esther, and Esther looked around.

"What did we do?" Esther asked. "What now?"

Desdemona giggled.

"...You actually survived, huh?"

[cassidyafton]

REIMAGINATION: CHAPTER 10

Summary: A dark reinterpretation of the events of the Mr. Hopp's Playhouse series.

Chapter summary: Turns out, Esther isn't the only one who can't find her friends. As the manor descends, so too does Esther's psyche, and her nightmares only get worse.

Chapter warnings: Gore/violent death starting at "The woman that stumbled out of the doorway was gaunt" and ended at "Esther opened the next door." Also, future catch-all TW that basically everything that's been in this story so far is going to get worse from here on out until the end of MHP 2. There will be more gore, more violence, more general harm against children, another scene involving child abuse, more religious and demonic themes, more horror sequences, more generally gross stuff, and more death.

The manor was in barely-concealed chaos by nightfall, with matrons running back and forth, only daring to speak the question has anyone seen Isaac when they thought the remaining kids were out of earshot.

It wasn't just Isaac, of course, that they were afraid of losing. It was Isaac, Molly, Jackie, Anna, Andy, and when was the last time anyone had seen Linda?

How many children were missing now? Esther watched the small group of children that convened around the dinner table, tapping anxiously against the table until Dessie came into view.

"I didn't get to apologize to Molly," Esther mumbled as Dessie sat down next to her.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Esther," Dessie reached out like she had hours before to pet Mr. Hopp's head as he sat in Esther's lap. "You did what you could."

"But what if we never find her, Dessie?" Esther looked down, grimacing like the words were painful to say. "What if she dies thinking I hated her?"

"Esthie." Dessie's expression turned serious suddenly, and she set her hand on top of Esther's. "We can't be talking like that right now."

"But-"

"Children!" Sister Beverly clapped her hands loudly. "It's straight to bed after dinner. We need a head count as soon as we can get one!"

Dessie squeezed Esther's hand as plates were passed around the table.

Esther felt beyond sick at this point, but she hadn't had breakfast or lunch today, and unfortunately, her hungry body was betraying her.

"Lord God and giver of all good gifts," Sister Beverly started, the way that Sister Gladys usually did before every meal, as the children closed their eyes and took each other's hands. "As we pause before this meal, we pray to you, dear God, for the blessings you provide us."

Esther heard Sister Beverly sigh.

"We ask little of you tonight but to protect this house and us within it. To rescue us from the fowler's snare, from the destroying plague, so that we may be sheltered with your pinions, and under your wings may we take refuge."

It was different this time. She could practically hear the fear in Sister Beverly's voice.

"We celebrate tomorrow to thank you, Lord, for this protection."

It was hardly a prayer, Esther thought, little more than a beg.

"Amen."

Esther didn't blame her.

"Amen," The children repeated, opening their eyes. Esther glanced over at the calendar, suddenly reminded of the date. December 24th. Tomorrow was Christmas.

It'd be her first Christmas without Molly or Isaac.

Dessie looked faint when Esther opened her eyes, but before Esther could react, she rubbed at her eyes, shook her head, and gave Esther a smile. Of course, there it was- maybe Esther was going crazy to think Dessie had looked like she was suddenly going to drop dead at her side.

As the children ate, the matrons circled around the table, tapping heads like a game of duck-duck-goose. Maria, Desdemona, Esther, Lucy, David, Billy, Emma, Tom, Nicholas, Gabriel, Bailey, Cecelia, Daniel. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve...

Esther watched the horror on the matrons' faces grow as, out of Blacklands Manor's twenty-four children, they each only counted thirteen.

They looked as faint as Dessie had. Matron Ruth began to whisper to herself, Matron Sue started to recount, and Sister Gladys hurried for the telephone to call 999. After a moment, Esther heard Matron Ruth say something about their wounds, and then she hurried and began checking each child for any injuries.

Disobedient as she tended to be, Dessie pulled her hand away when Matron Ruth began to examine her. In her panic, Matron Ruth moved right along to Esther, scanning her arms and head for any sign of injury.

Esther knew exactly what she was looking for.

There must've been something in Esther's expression that Matron Ruth caught, because she stopped for a second, placed a hand on Esther's cheek, and said, "it's going to be okay. It always has been."

Esther nodded.

It always had been.

-

It had taken quite a bit of nagging to get Esther to bed, but there was only so much we're all worried, but there's nothing you can do she could hear before she had given into her exhaustion and gone to bed, holding Mr. Hopp tightly so nothing could take him away again.

She had started to question if it had ever been Molly that had done that.

She woke up on the ground in a hallway. Paintings surrounded her, interspersed between doors. On the floor was a red rug, and above her was a chandelier.

She stood up, approaching the paintings. Most of them of Jesus on the cross, a few stood out to her, across from each other in the hall: a woman with long, partially braided black hair, a floral turban, and white and gold clothing with pearl necklaces, and a little girl who almost looked like she could've been the woman's daughter, were their faces not so different. The little girl looked somewhat familiar, and what told Esther she was dreaming was that she couldn't recognize it. With long, black twin braids and a white dress laced in the front with a brown front panel and brown trim, she looked to be from the Middle Ages, or sometime around then.

Esther carried on. Opening the door to the next room, she found herself facing down...

A hallway. Paintings surrounded her, interspersed between doors. On the floor was a red rug, and above her was a chandelier.

If she hadn't known she was dreaming then, that would've given it away. She approached the paintings again. Most of them of Jesus on the cross, the same two stood out to her: a new woman, blonde with a white cap of some sort, a white shirt, and a red dress. Underneath the painting was an engraved piece of metal, with the words Sibley Beaumont, 1626-1656.

Okay, so Esther had maybe been a few years off with her estimate.

Sibley looked off at something in the distance that Esther couldn't see, but the girl that likely wasn't her daughter either wasn't doing the same anymore. Now, she had a necklace that seemed familiar to Esther, too. It only had one medallion, unlike the three that Esther had found in the bedroom, but that one medallion was the same sigil she'd seen then: the sigil of Bael.

Underneath the little girl's painting, the writing didn't say her name. Instead, it said YOU ARE PERFECT.

Esther shuddered.

There was something about that she didn't like.

She continued down the hall, and at the end was another hallway. Paintings surrounded her, interspersed between doors. On the floor was a red rug, and above her was a chandelier, and had it always been swinging like that?

Foregoing the paintings for now, she approached the chandelier-

And shrieked as it suddenly fell down. Broken glass shot out around her, barely missing her.

There was no chandelier in the next hallway.

As she traversed from hallway to hallway, the paintings changed. The braided girl stood next to Sibley, then held the necklace, then three dolls- a ragdoll jester, a wooden bear, and a matching wooden cat. Then those dolls took the form of large, shadowy figures looming behind her as she raised her hands as though summoning them from the earth. Then Sibley returned, and-

The door before Esther burst open.

The woman that stumbled out of the doorway was gaunt and pale, with sunken green eyes. Dressed in a white shirt and red dress, her white cap barely sat even on her ratty blonde hair.

"Sibley?"

"Esther," Sibley begged, practically falling to her knees and gripping Esther's arms. "Help me... please..."

Her grip on Esther tightened as something suddenly began to yank Sibley away, but it wasn't enough. Esther extended her arms to try to hold onto her, but her hands slipped out of her grip, and Esther couldn't look away.

As she screamed, or maybe Esther did, Sibley's body rose into the air and began to contort, bruises and open wounds forming at places where the bone had split unnaturally as if forming new joints. Her body twisted and squished with a noise that made Esther want to cover her ears, but she didn't, not until she heard the crunching, and where Sibley's body had been was now a spray of blood and wet clumps of dust that had once been her broken bones that shot out like the broken glass had. Esther flinched, covering her eyes with one arm, and didn't move until all that was left was the sound of something dripping.

Slowly, she uncovered her eyes and stared at the scene before her in shock.

Clumpy, almost congealed-looking pools of blood had covered the ceiling, the floor, the walls, and the paintings. The smell of iron filled the air of the small hallway as Esther swallowed back her nausea and stepped forward. The wet rug squished under her bare feet, sending waves of sickness rolling through her.

There was nothing to be done for her now.

Esther opened the next door.

Where the painting of the little girl had been, there was now only a silhouette of her. Behind her, something engulfed in flames.

No, not something. An almshouse.

Esther knew where she recognized this girl.

This was the girl from her dreams.

She placed a hand on the painting.

It was Isabelle Hemlock.

Underneath the painting, another phrase. GIVE YOURSELF TO US. Esther shuddered and hurried toward the next hallway, where she was met with a painting of a mob, complete with all manner of makeshift weapons and torches, and the next, where...

There it was. Isabelle was burned to death at the stake.

A shadowy figure at the end of the hallway awaited her. A little girl with an amulet, and three toys: a jester, a bear, and a cat.

She approached silently, eyes fixed on the figure, and then-

"Esther."

Molly.

She shot up, suddenly wide awake and shuddering, and looked back and forth.

"Help us," Isaac whispered from somewhere Esther couldn't see, but he was there, and they needed her help, and that was what mattered.

Preparing herself for another night of trouble, Esther grabbed Mr. Hopp from her bedside dresser and climbed out of bed.

[cassidyafton]

REIMAGINATION: CHAPTER 9

Summary: A dark reinterpretation of the events of the Mr. Hopp's Playhouse series.

Chapter summary: Esther encounters someone- and something- bizarre, while searching for Molly.

"Dessie?"

"Hm?" Desdemona looked up from where she sat on a small stool in the hallway, smiling at Esther as she continued to pick lint out of her doll's yarn hair. "Have you found Molly yet? Really, I think she ought to apologize to you for putting you through all this trouble."

"No, no, it's not that." Esther hadn't found Molly yet, but she wasn't yet ready to admit that. "I had a different question."

"Alright." She set down her doll. "What's up?"

"What you said at breakfast," Esther started nervously. "Did you really mean it?"

"Of course I did." She smiled and reached out to pinch Mr. Hopp's cheeks. "I believe you. Mr. Hopp and I always will. That's what friends are for, isn't it?"

"Not..." Esther trailed off and smiled softly. "Thanks, but... not about that."

"Then what?"

"The... evil in this house. You really believe there's something here with us?"

Dessie sighed, removing her hand from Mr. Hopp's plastic face, and picked her doll up again.

"Of course I do, Esthie. Something whispers his name at night. You hear it, don't you? He wants us to say his name. To summon him."

"What's its name?"

Desdemona tugged at another piece of lint- the unfortunate consequence of leaving her doll on the floor of the bedroom. "Bael."

A chill ran down Esther's spine.

"You were out last night," Desdemona said. "Did you hear him then?"

"I..." Esther shook her head, a bit embarrassed to admit it. "I didn't. But I saw something in a book. It had left a book open to its name. And I- I said it."

Desdemona nodded grimly. "That's what he wants. I don't know why."

"You think it wants to hurt us?" Esther asked.

"I think he wants to make us hurt each other." Desdemona pulled at another stray piece of lint, and with it, out came a strand of brown yarn from the doll's head. Her expression was sympathetic. "You weren't yourself this morning, were you? When you yelled at Molly?"

"No." Esther shook her head.  "I wasn't. It was like... I was saying things I'd never really thought. I didn't mean any of that, I... I feel so terrible about it."

A moment of silence passed, and Esther paled.

"Y-you don't think..."

Dessie giggled, despite herself. "No, I don't think he's possessing you, Esthie." Her serious expression returned. "But his presence... it's enough to influence us."

She reached out and gave Mr. Hopp another pinch on the cheek, then squeezed Esther's hand. Her grip was just as icy as it had been the night before.

"Remember you aren't alone, though, Esther. If you don't have anyone else, you have me and Mr. Hopp." She shifted her hand and pet Mr. Hopp on the top of his head. "Isn't that right, funny bunny?"

Esther nodded. "Thanks, Dessie. Stay safe."

"You too."

She found Billy Thomas in the library, where he was sitting upside-down on a chair, kicking his legs up and down the way he usually did with his ball before he got it thrown away. He smiled and waved at her as she approached, though she could hardly muster up the will to smile back.

"Hey, Billy... have you seen Molly?"

It took a second for Billy to process her question, then he smiled again. "Yeah." He swung his legs around the chair and sat up. "Second floor bedroom in the East wing. But watch out." He narrowed his eyes and his smile turned mocking. "Miss Bo took her there."

It was unlike him. Billy was mischievous and often annoying, but never malicious. Esther shuddered. "Billy?"

"Hm?" Billy tilted his head, looking at her innocently again. He scratched at one hand, which Esther could now see had a familiar lump on it- the kind that had plagued Jackie Goodwin's skin.

"Y'know what? Never mind." Esther giggled nervously. "Thanks. I'm gonna go look for Molly now."

"Alright." Billy smiled warmly again and waved. "Any time, Esthie."

Was she going crazy? Why did everyone seem to be taunting her? First Molly, then Billy- it seemed like everyone was out to get her. She held Mr. Hopp closely as she walked, as quick as she could without getting in trouble for running indoors, reminding herself of Dessie's words, of the fact that she wasn't alone here. If you don't have anyone else, you have me and Mr. Hopp.

She remembered Molly liked that bedroom. Since they were children, it'd been Molly's favorite place to nap, or sulk, or play, or do anything that she wasn't supposed to and didn't want the matrons to see. Maybe it was the pink walls that drew her to it, or maybe it was the bunk bed, or the distance from the children's room. But when Esther made it to the room, it was empty.

Her first impression, at least, was that it was empty.

Then her eyes met the painted white of Miss Bo's sclera, and she turned to see the stuffed panda on the dresser.

Miss Bo was creepy all the same as Mr. Hopp, resembling a plastic doll dressed in a bear costume a bit, made worse by her animalistic features molded into her plastic face. Her blue eyes appeared lifeless and uncanny, her smile the same sort of wrong as Mr. Hopp's had been when she'd first seen him. Black with a white head and white paws, a pink heart was sewn into the white spot on her torso, and a pink bow was wrapped around her head the same shade as her pink trousers and suspenders.

As if afraid Miss Bo would bite or attack her, Esther slowly reached out and took her off the dresser.

"What are you doing here all alone?" She asked softly.

Miss Bo tilted her head, or maybe Esther imagined she did. It was getting hard to tell. It was even harder to tell if she was imagining Miss Bo's eyes pointing toward the dresser drawer.

Unable to control her curiosity, Esther opened it.

Inside were what first appeared to be three small, golden medallions- Esther couldn't see, until she looked closer, the gold chain that connected them. One of them bore a strange X-shaped symbol on it, and the letters B-A-E-L.

Bael.

The other two were harder to understand. Both sporting a symbol that could only be described as knots looping into one another, the two surrounded the X symbol. And underneath the necklace was a box with a cross on it, and a phrase Esther didn't recognize: Reis-Nichols.

She reached out for the necklace, or maybe the box underneath it, and suddenly, she felt a grabbing force on her arm, a massive claw yanking on her wrist. Shrieking, Esther pulled away and dropped Miss Bo to the ground. No, nothing had happened. She'd imagined it. She'd made it up. She wasn't sleeping well. She...

She needed to tell Isaac. No more games. No more pretending things were okay. Isaac needed to know, because if someone didn't know, Esther was going to lose her mind. Grabbing Miss Bo and Mr. Hopp again, she hurried back the way she'd come, only stopping to grab the suddenly unattended Mr. Stripes to give back to him when she stumbled over him in the hallway. Isaac needed to know. He needed to hear her out.

But where was Isaac?

[cassidyafton]

Yes I did forget about about this blog briefly. Shut up /lh

[cassidyafton]

M.I.A.: Chapter 5

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: When Trinity wakes up for real this time, she wants to continue her search right away. Her friends aren't so keen on the idea.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Maritza blinked, looking at Trinity from across the backseat of the minivan as if she was an idiot. “Yeah? Dude, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes. Did you catch anything I said?”

Trinity looked away, not wanting to admit the answer was no. It had been a blur since she’d woken up in the hospital. She knew Abanante was there, and the Espositos had been enlisted to take her home. It had been a long process, through which Trinity had learned that Enzo and Maritza’s parents had gotten into a disaster of their own, but she’d caught very little other than that.

“Be patient, Marci.” From the driver’s seat, Maritza’s mother smiled warmly. “I’d be discombobulated if I were her, too.”

“...Right.” Trinity nodded slowly. “Thanks, Mrs. Esposito.”

“There’s no need to call me that.” She chuckled. “Just Bianca is fine. How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Mom, I was talking to her,” Maritza complained.

“I’m fine. I just… must’ve missed an insulin shot this morning.” Trinity looked down at her hands. They were still shaking a bit, most likely residual from her attack. “I left home early- I probably forgot to take it before I left…”

Without Mom and Dad home to remind me.

That part went unsaid.

"Just forget it." Maritza waved a hand. "You've been out of it since we picked you up."

"What's on your mind anyway?" Enzo asked with that innocent smile that Trinity had come to associate with his goofy questions.

Trinity shrugged and looked out the window. She could see Enzo frown in the reflection.

"I've done more for your family than you know, Trinity. I don't appreciate you insinuating I've done something to hurt your parents."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it, Ms. Abanante." The nurse had given Trinity a sympathetic look, seemingly missing the malice in Abanante's expression- assuming Trinity hadn't been making it up. "She was going into shock, after all. There's a good chance she didn't even know what she was saying." He'd laughed at that, but Trinity didn't find it especially funny.

Trinity had nodded, just to keep Abanante's death glare away from her. "Yeah, I guess so."

Abanante's face had softened as she smiled at her and the nurse, but there was something suspicious that had remained in her expression as she eyed Trinity. "Yes, of course. Well, I understand your struggle right now, dear. Just remember it's what you do with it that matters. I know you mean nothing but the best- I'd hate to see you taking out your struggles on others."

Before Trinity could say anything else, Abanante had turned back to the nurse.

"Have you spoken to the Espositos about discharge? They'll be the ones taking her home."

Trinity sighed, unsure of how to explain it. "Something is just weird. I think we need to meet with the others tonight."

Their father, Miguel, shook his head- she saw it through the rearview mirror. "I dunno, Trinity. I know how you kids are with your adventures, but I think everyone could use a break tonight, most of all you. I'm sorry your parents are busy, but you've gotta take care of yourself and your friends while they're gone, okay?" He smiled. "Why don't you come over for dinner, so you don't have to be home alone?"

She opened her mouth to object, my parents aren't busy, something bad happened to them, but what were Miguel and Bianca going to do about that? Change their I'm sorry from I'm sorry your parents are busy to I'm sorry your parents might be kidnapped? Or murdered, or being tortured, having God knows what awful things happen to them while everyone sits around doing nothing? The police weren't going to help. That was the only help the Espositos could offer.

She briefly thought back to the spiders from her dream.

Again, she started to object, to at least say I'm sorry, I can't and call Delroy or Ivan or Nicky or maybe even get Enzo or Maritza to back her up so she could investigate again, but she glanced back at Enzo and Maritza, and Enzo was giving her that goofy smile again, and Maritza... she looked stressed, eyes darting back and forth between her parents. Trinity was sure Maritza knew she was looking at her, but she wouldn't return the gaze.

"Fine." She sighed. "One night. Then we're back on as soon as possible tomorrow."

-

“So, what are your parents doing right now, Trinity?”

The question came after some quiet discussion between Trinity, Enzo and Maritza, in which they agreed that there was no use telling the truth to their family- an agreement they came to because the Esposito kids knew their mother, and they knew this question was coming.

“Oh, uh…” Trinity brushed a braid behind her ear. “My mom usually works from home, but she got, uh, called into the office. Which is to say, out of town. My dad is… just with her? For moral support?”

The one thing she could stand by was that she never told Maritza and Enzo she was a good liar.

“And why didn’t you go with them?”

“Uh…”

“School,” Enzo chimed in. “She was telling me she would’ve gotten way behind if she’d left with her parents.”

“Oh, of course.” Bianca laughed. “Not a lot of those teachers are very tolerant of that- even the nice ones. They’re a lot of the same people as when I went to school, y’know. I’d lose my mind if I had to teach for that long.”

Enzo leaned in next to Trinity. “Mom’s a bit of a rambler.”

"I can tell," Trinity returned.

"Oh, is Mr. Murtaugh still working?" Bianca's eyes lit up. "We thought he was terrifying."

"Oh yeah, yeah." Trinity nodded. "He's still working. And still... eccentric."

Bianca laughed. "You know, one time we found a giant crow costume in his storage closet."

"You did not," Miguel interjected with a grin.

"Did too! Three people saw it."

"It wasn't there when I looked, I don't know what to tell you."

"Well- he must've hidden it!"

The kids glanced back and forth between each other.

"I'm going to call Miranda. You finish the spaghetti." Bianca stepped away from the pot she'd been attending and out of the kitchen. "I guarantee you she'll remember the crow costume that absolutely was there."

"A crow costume?" Trinity tried not to let her shock or interest show. "Like..."

"Yep." Bianca nodded proudly. "A full crow costume."

"You weren't here for it," Maritza said quietly, so as to not alert her mother, "but Ivan was saying earlier today that he thought Murtaugh might've been Crowface. Right before you conked out and scared the hell out of the rest of us."

Trinity frowned. Would it kill Maritza to be a little more delicate?

"But he wouldn't have had access to the coins," Enzo added.

"And Abanante would?" Maritza raised an eyebrow.

"I don't like all this whispering you three are doing." Miguel was smiling, but not much- more so to say I'm not mad at you (yet) than this is particularly funny- as he set down plates in front of the kids.

"Oh, Trinity, after dinner, Enzo got this new game we've been dying to show someone." Maritza was the first to take the cue to change the subject. "You wanna play?"

"Well, I..."

Again, she started to say no, I can't, I need to go. As soon as she was home, she would call Ivan. Ask him what he knew about Mr. Murtaugh. She would get back on the search. If there was even time left, she was surely running low on it.

But going home didn't sound appealing, and Enzo was giving her that goofy smile again. That smile that reminded her of adoration, of the things she needed to take care of while her parents were gone, just like Miguel had said.

She nodded instead.

She could spare one night off.

[cassidyafton]

14:14: CHAPTER 1

Summary: After a mysterious call from a boy thought dead, Trinity Bales leads her friends into the Peterson house to rescue their friend.

Content warning: Kidnapping, violence against children, allusions to child death

Trinity Bales went to church a few times, when she was little. It stopped when one day, the pastor leaned over and whispered something into her mother's ear; without another word, she took Trinity by the hand and pulled her out of the church.

For years, she'd wondered if it was her fault, if she'd forsaken God so cruelly that even the pastor she'd never spoken to before knew.

There were old wounds on her upper arms from the holes she'd picked in her skin since the incident, as if she could pull out something evil festering inside her like an infection. But her childhood therapist had taught her how to avoid what he'd described as anxious tics, and so the wounds stayed old, even when the memory of whatever sin she'd committed resurfaced.

That was, until she saw Luanne and Jay Roth stapling missing posters with their son Nicky's school picture on the telephone poles down the street. Then, suddenly, she couldn't stop.

Nicky Roth was an underclassman of Trinity's, a socially awkward seventh-grader who'd only moved to Raven Brooks and into the house next to hers a few months prior. She'd quickly grown used to his chicken-scratch handwriting and his talk of aliens and cracking codes, and the inventor's club had been happy to welcome a new member. He hung around mostly Trinity's classmates and peers- her boyfriend Enzo Esposito and friends Delroy Clark, Ivan Torre, Finch Yi, and, of course, herself- despite his younger age, and while she'd no doubt noticed and taken to heart what had happened to the Peterson children, maybe that was why Nicky's sudden vanishing hit her so hard.

It had been a month now, a month of skin-picking and hair-pulling and checking every channel on her walkie-talkie over and over and over, but there was simply no trace of him.

A picture of Jesus stared back at her as she gazed blankly at her wall. She'd bought it from the thrift store not too long after the incident at church, and hadn't been able to take it down since. Too much uncertainty existed around it.

What was very clear to her, though, was that it certainly wasn't making her feel any better. Jesus and Judas- had she made a mistake by getting a picture with Judas? She certainly hadn't known at the time - seemed to watch her. One day she'd take the damn thing down, put it in the attic and let her room actually be a place of solace. As she switched back and forth through channels, however, she knew today wouldn't be that day.

"Trinity-"

She gasped, tuning back a few channels. "Nicky? Where are you, we've been-"

"Trinity," the voice repeated. No, it wasn't Nicky. It didn't sound a thing like him. "We need your help."

She recognized that voice.

"We're in my dad's basement," he continued. "Nicky's down here. He needs help. You-" he stopped, and Trinity could pick up on staticky footsteps before he picked up again, quieter this time. "You have to help him."

"Hang on..."

"Please."

"...Aaron, is that you?"

No answer. Aaron clearly had said what he wanted and that was that. Well, Trinity could help him- she’d find a way. She wouldn’t let Aaron- or, more importantly, Nicky- down.

There was blood on the white blouse underneath her sweater vest. She was making a mess of herself again, but she couldn’t be bothered with that right now. She lifted her hand from her left arm, where she just now realized she’d been picking wounds into her skin again.

She’d skipped the inventor’s club meeting today, citing a mystery illness that had kept her out of it all day at school. Finch had, as she tended to, been obviously suspicious of the story, but decided, as she tended to, that it wasn’t her problem and returned to painting her nails and half-listening along to Enzo’s little sister Maritza. It was a story she was going to have to go back on, though. She knew she couldn’t do this alone, and the rest of the club was her best bet.

She pulled her window open and started to climb out. It was a long walk to school, but it was one she could make. Nicky needed her.

By the time she made it to the science classroom, which served secondarily as the inventor’s club room, the shock of what she heard which fueled her determination was starting to fade, and the insanity of what had actually happened was setting in. She’d been contacted by a dead boy- presumed dead, at the very least- and given the location of her missing friend to save him. Sounding crazy was a very real risk.

So, instead of explaining herself right away, she just carefully opened the door.

“Trinity?” Enzo frowned. “I thought you were sick.” He stepped toward her, as if to check on her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I was just… worried about Nicky.”

“Still?” Finch raised an eyebrow, looking up through her thick black bangs. “I thought they were treating it as a runaway. You’re really panicky about him when he probably knew what he was doing.”

Finch had never been fond of Nicky, and she’d never done much to pretend she was, but though Trinity brushed it off usually because Finch never seemed fond of any boys, she crossed her arms and gave Finch a glare this time, not in the mood for that kind of nonsense.

“I mean, yeah,” Maritza piped up from the corner, where she’d clearly been disengaged from what the rest of the club was doing. “Nicky runs off all the time. I’m sure he’s fine, right?”

“Look.” Trinity pinched the bridge of her nose, then pulled the walkie-talkie out of her bag and held it up. “I got a message today. Nicky’s in Mr. Peterson’s basement, and he needs help.”

“Who was the message from?” Ivan asked. There was a bit of hesitation in his voice, like he knew the answer already.

“…Aaron.”

The room went quiet. Trinity stood in the silence for a moment.

"Aaron asked me to help Nicky," she said after a moment of silence passed. "I can't do it alone."

"Do what?" Maritza asked.

"Rescue him."

"Rescue him?" Enzo echoed. "You can't- I mean..." He tugged at the collar of his shirt. "What if Mr. Peterson catches you?"

"I won't let him," Trinity insisted. "This has to be done. I mean, who knows what's happening in that house, and he'll certainly never let Nicky out. It's been weeks already. So I need to go in for him. We need to go in for him."

She stared at the others' horrified expressions, slowly turning to uncertain glances they exchanged between each other.

Enzo was the first to speak up.

"I'll help you." He was strong at first, but immediately started to relent, "i-if you're really not going to reconsider! I mean... the last thing I need is for you... y'know..." He chuckled awkwardly.

"Me too." Maritza stood up, and again, Enzo bristled. He opened his mouth to object, and Maritza glared, pointing her baseball bat at her brother.

"If you're gonna help save Nicky, so am I. I can handle myself just as well as you can. Besides- if the old creep tries anything, I’ll slug him."

"Maritza, it's not safe."

"Which is why you need backup!" Maritza insisted. "What do you expect me to do, just let you run off into danger while I sit pretty at home pretending everything's fine?"

Enzo hesitated for a second, then sighed.

“Everyone who’s going to help, meet me after club at the Roth house,” Trinity said. “I’ll give everyone a proper explanation then.”

“This is a bad idea,” Finch chimed in before Trinity could turn to leave.

“Then don’t come.” Trinity crossed her arms. A challenge she knew Finch would take, and of course, Finch did bite.

“Well, maybe I won’t.” Finch crossed her arms right back. “All we’re gonna do is get ourselves kidnapped.”

“Or we’ll save Nicky without you. That should be fine, right? You never liked him anyway.”

“Oh, what, like I need the glory of being a hero?”

“You’re our best chance, Finch. We need your skills on the ground.”

A few seconds passed. Finch looked at her suspiciously. She opened her mouth to justify her decision again and found nothing.

“Trust me,” she said instead.

-

The good thing about Nicky’s treehouse was that, no matter how many X-Files stickers and posters of garage rock bands cluttered the walls, or boxes of locks and puzzles and tools he’d tried and failed to explain to her before littered the floor, nothing stared them down the way the painting in Trinity’s bedroom did. Safe from any prying eyes, Trinity waited at the entrance as her friends climbed in one by one. It may have been a bit of an invasion of privacy, but she was sure most of them had already been up here before with Nicky around. Besides, with her parents always on her back and Jay and Luanne so often busy, it left Nicky’s house best for meeting up.

Finch, of course, either lost or stubborn, was the last to arrive, but Trinity didn’t complain- she’d come armed with a slingshot, at least, which was more than anyone else had brought, save for Maritza and her baseball bat.

“While we were waiting for everyone else, Enzo and I did some reading-” Trinity started, pointing to one of the makeshift maps on the table- “and we found out about the sewer system under the town. There’s a path through them that we can take to get around to the back of Peterson’s house without him ever seeing us. That’s very important. If he has any chance to see us coming, it’s over.”

“You guys know the way through it?” Delroy asked. “The exact way? I’m not messing with that if you don’t.”

“That’s what the map is for.” Trinity tapped it. “We follow the map, and we’ll be fine.”

“What if Delroy’s right?” Ivan asked. “Those can be dangerous…”

“Guys,” Trinity said, and everyone stopped and looked at her again, because they always did, “I’ll lead us. If anyone starts feeling sick or lightheaded, speak up, and we’ll come back here and regroup. I won’t let you get hurt.”

She turned to Enzo and took his hand. “You ready, Enzo?”

He did his best to smile, but it didn’t really work. She could tell he wasn’t ready as he shook out his free hand.

“We’ll be okay. I’ll protect you.” She squeezed his hand. “All of you.”

Trinity stuffed the map in her backpack and nodded to the others, leading Enzo by the hand back toward the entrance to the treehouse. “Let’s go. Everyone, follow me.”

Nicky’s backyard was big- big enough that, if she was careful enough, she could check Peterson’s location without him ever noticing. Carefully unlacing her fingers from Enzo’s, she reached for the binoculars around his neck and looked through them. No sign of Peterson at all.

“The coast’s clear.” She waved the others out the gate and down the street. 

She’d noticed it plenty of times on the walk home from school- at the T-intersection at the end of the road, the sewer drains let out, and right behind Peterson’s house was a large manhole which was left uncovered-

Trinity stifled a shudder.

The same one Mya Peterson’s body was found in.

It’d made Peterson himself a suspect, of course, but no one could bring themselves to leverage any real accusations against a grieving man like him- at least, not at the time. Now, with Aaron and Nicky gone, Trinity was more sure than ever that Peterson had in some way been responsible for what happened to Mya, be it her death or the reason she had been down there at all.

When the thought that Mya got trapped in the storm drain and suffocated came to her mind, she knew she would be thinking about it the entire time until they made it to the house. Fifth manhole we pass , she repeated to herself. We just have to make it to the fifth manhole .

With Ivan whining anxiously behind her like a scared dog, she took a breath and led the others inside.

It was about a minute and a half of crawling before they made it to the first manhole, and suddenly plagued with thoughts of getting trapped and suffocating, Trinity nearly shrieked when Finch coughed from behind her. Luckily, she wasn’t quite as far gone as Ivan, who did scream- and, from the sound it made, evidently knocked his head against the top of the sewer trying to jump back.

“Jesus.” Trinity could practically hear Finch roll her eyes. “I just got some dust in my throat.”

“It’s fine,” Trinity said. “We’re getting close.”

Her parents were going to kill her for getting her nice sweater vest and skirt covered in sewer water.

One…

There was graffiti on the walls, drawn in with sharpie. That might’ve put Trinity at ease, in another circumstance. If she could think clearly enough to remind herself that meant others had made it in and out.

Two…

“It gets a little tighter up here,” she warned, hoping to God that it wasn’t too tight, tight enough that they could get trapped, and even if they called for help there might be no hope. Tight enough that no one could get them out.

Three…

It would be no easy death, that would be sure.

Four…

Maybe that was how Mya had died.

The fifth manhole was open, and that was their sign. Hands sore and damp from crawling, Trinity pulled herself up the steel ladder anyway, wiping her palms on her skirt to help pull the others up. She’d have a lot to explain to her parents if they saw her clothes before she got to wash them, but maybe they would understand. She was here to save her friend, after all.

“I’m never doing that again,” Ivan whispered, hugging himself as soon as he was out of the manhole. “I am never doing that again.”

Trinity gave him a smile and a pat on the shoulder. “You did a good job.”

“I wouldn’t call it good ,” Maritza chimed in. “You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Trinity sighed. “More importantly, the back door’s bolted shut. We’re gonna have to find another way in.”

Hadn’t she heard Nicky say that exact thing once before?

After a moment of scanning, her eyes landed on a balcony with a ladder attached on the second floor and waved the others over as she shuffled through her bag for one of Nicky’s lock-picking sets- she’d apologize for taking it later. 

Everyone else followed her lead, climbing up the ladder while she crouched on the ground, fumbling with the small tools, faster and more carelessly each time so as not to seem like a fool taking too long to do something she obviously didn’t know how to.

“Here.” Enzo took her hands in his, guiding her movements. “Apply a little more turning pressure with the tension rod. You’re just holding it there, so the pins aren’t getting caught in the right position.”

Trinity blushed. “Right. Sorry.”

“It takes practice.”

“Since when do you know how to pick locks?” Maritza asked incredulously.

“Aaron taught me a while ago.” Enzo removed one hand from Trinity’s and scratched at his neck. “Y’know, before…”

Enzo trailed off. Trinity turned the tension rod and the lock clicked. Brushing her hands off on her skirt again, she returned the lockpick to her bag and pulled open the door.

-

Admittedly, Ivan wasn’t sure about taking the lead. He knew Enzo and the others were counting on him, but that didn’t make it all that much easier. And of course, that meant that he wasn’t really taking the lead. Delroy, carrying Ivan’s belongings, small trinkets that would help them navigate the house’s traps, was really leading, and Ivan was still unsure.

The Peterson house was a disgusting place, deteriorating rapidly from when Ivan had last been in the house months ago. The stale air smelled of rust and mold, the floor was littered with booby traps, and some of the doors in the house were barred off and locked with strong electrical currents- which Ivan learned the hard way after having put his hand on one to open it. As they walked, he idly chewed at his thumb, trying to quell the soreness from the shock. With every creak in the floorboards, his fear seemed to spike, wondering every time if Peterson knew they were there.

He could hardly think of anywhere he’d rather be less than this.

But there was nothing to be done about it, not while Nicky was still missing, so behind Delroy, Ivan worked his way through the house, setting out a safe path for the others. No traps, no metal doors, no locks. Just a smooth path for the others to follow.

Of course, it happened as a result of this that their group ended up separated. About five minutes into the search, Trinity phoned in on the walkie-talkie.

“Where did you guys end up?” She asked.

“We’re somewhere on the first floor,” Ivan responded. “It’s hard to tell.”

“Okay.” He vaguely heard Trinity repeating they’re on the first floor to the others, then her voice became clear again. “Just keep an eye out for the key to the basement.”

Right. Key to the basement. Ivan could do that, and he repeated that to himself, no matter how jumpy the shifting and creaking of the houses made him or how many times Delroy got on his case for trying to hide behind him from noises.

Ivan could do that, because his friends were counting on him.

Near the kitchen, they found the key to the basement in a safe.

The kitchen itself was run-down, poorly kept and messy, just like everything else in the house, but the stove’s hot surface warning light was still on. The kitchen had recently been used, and that told Ivan two things: one, there was no doubt he was really keeping Nicky alive like Trinity said, and two, he either was home or had been recently.

Scanning through the kitchen for any sign of what the code to the safe might be turned up nothing but sticky notes, old drawings that looked to be Mya’s, and empty cans of preserved foods for a good two minutes, before they finally found a note on the side of the fridge which simply read 1984.

(Aaron’s birth year. How had Ivan not thought of that?)

Inputting 1984 into the safe on the kitchen shelf opened it, and inside was a large red key. Matching the lock on the basement door. That was the key they were looking for.

In their hurry to get it and get to the basement, they almost didn’t notice Peterson there until they ran right into him.

-

There was a bear trap right in front of the basement door.

That was a disturbing sight. Though, of course, it wasn’t quite like the ones out of cartoons with dozens of massive, sharp teeth, it still must’ve had enough force to break bone, or skin and muscle at the very least, and here he was willing to put it right where Nicky and his own son might have ended up were they to try to escape. Trinity didn’t dare step any closer. She would risk stepping into it when Ivan and Delroy had the key, but now, she knew the operation needed her capable and uninjured.

Before she could even think to wonder what was taking Ivan and Delroy so long, she got her answer. Her walkie-talkie made a staticky noise, and she could hear Ivan’s voice from the other side.

“Get out!” He cried. “Get out of there! Before he finds you!”

Trinity bristled. “Ivan, calm down!” She whispered into the walkie-talkie, in case the he she knew Ivan was talking about was near. “What’s going on?”

“Peterson found us,” Delroy chimed in. “He’s looking for you guys. Don’t go running off, just- find somewhere to hide. Quick!”

“Trinity…”

Trinity turned to the others, about to tell them to hide, and then she saw why Enzo was trying to get her attention.

Peterson was right behind them, eyes burning with anger, but he just stood and stared. His gaze darted from Trinity, to Finch, to Enzo and Maritza, back to Trinity again, before the silence was finally broken as Finch shuffled through her pockets and pulled out a utility knife.

“Stay away,” she warned. “I’m not going to let you try anything.”

Without even flinching, Peterson simply reached out and grabbed the utility knife away from her, then crouched down and put his other hand on the top of her head, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“And just what are you doing here?” He hissed, and Trinity herself recoiled, unable to stop herself from imagining herself in Finch’s position. “Hasn’t your family given me enough grief?”

“Leave her alone!” Trinity yelled. A bad idea, but she couldn’t let her friend get handled like this without stepping in. It was just enough to catch Peterson’s attention, enough for him to shove Finch aside, and was it her imagination or was Finch shaking?

He stepped closer to her, and before she could tell the others to run, Delroy and Ivan hurried into the room, and Trinity realized she had to stall for time until Delroy could unlock the basement door.

“This isn’t about you,” Trinity said, eyes darting between him and Delroy. “We’re not here to cause you problems!”

“Then what are you here for?” He stepped closer again, and Trinity backed up.

The slight click of the lock opening was all it took for her to lose his attention as he looked over at Delroy and Ivan.

“Ivan.” His eyes narrowed, and Ivan shrunk behind Delroy, who didn’t even object this time.

“Isn’t this what you want?” Delroy challenged, holding the key and opened lock up. “You don’t want us to have this?”

“You-”

His expression shifted from anger to wild rage, almost animalistic. He charged at Delroy, who simply charged right back.

It was an impressive sight. Delroy wasn’t someone who Trinity had ever taken for being especially strong, but strong or not, he was certainly willing to fight off Peterson for them. He swung wildly as Peterson practically roared, trying to pry Delroy away from him and grab at the key, and Trinity scanned their surroundings for a way past the fight. But as it became apparent there was no way past them into the basement, Ivan stood next to Delroy, waiting, watching, as if he knew something bad was about to happen, and Trinity did too. Even as he struggled like a toddler, kicking and biting, they knew he could only hold on for so long.

“Delroy! Let him go!” Trinity called. “Just get to the basement!”

Delroy nodded, squirming free from Peterson’s grip, but before Trinity could open her mouth to warn him to be careful, he stepped back, and then it happened.

It wasn’t the noise that shook her, or the blood- though maybe it should’ve been. But she’d seen blood before, she’d heard Nicky set off the bear traps. She’d never seen one close on someone like this, but that wasn’t the most shocking part. 

No, the most shocking part about the whole ordeal was the way that Finch, not Delroy, but Finch screamed.

Trinity had never heard Finch Yi scream before, no matter what went wrong- it was always brushed off with a roll of her eyes and some snarky comment. But there was no mistaking the way that she did scream, and she screamed until it fizzled out into a weak whine and a gasp and she couldn’t make any more noise.

That was when Trinity Bales realized what they were up against.

When Delroy finally opened his mouth to cry out in pain, for a brief second, Trinity expected something horrible, something worse than the bear trap, to come from Peterson, and the shock only worsened when his rage quelled. With his back turned to the others, he crouched down, opened the bear trap, and silently lifted the injured Delroy, who was now writhing in pain and hardly able to move, in one arm. There was no carelessness in the way he handled him.

Of course, he’d been a father once.

“The rest of you,” he said, his voice tired and raspy, “go home, and don’t come back.”

He was giving them an out. The only mercy he’d ever given them, and perhaps the only mercy he ever would. She felt Enzo grab her hand, but she pulled away; she wasn’t ready to leave. Because Ivan wasn’t moving. His eyes were fixed on Delroy.

“Ivan!” She cried. “Come on!”

“But Delroy-”

“Come on! ” She repeated, and because he always did, he looked back at her, but this time, he didn’t move, even as Delroy swatted at him to leave.

He turned back to Peterson.

“Will he be okay?” He whimpered.

Peterson’s stony expression softened, for just a moment. He reached out his other hand to Ivan.

“Why don’t you help me tend to him?”

“Ivan, don’t-”

Enzo grabbed Trinity’s hand again. Practically shaking in his untied shoes, Ivan hesitantly took Peterson’s hand and his offer, resigning himself to the basement, and with no other choice, the others ran.

[cassidyafton]

M.I.A.: Chapter 4

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: Trinity wakes up- or at least, she thinks she wakes up- in a version of Raven Brooks she doesn't recognize.

Trinity woke up on the cold tile floor of a dingy bathroom, drenched in her own sweat and shivering.

She groaned, clutching her head as she sat up. Where was she? How did she get here?

"Enzo?" She called, with no response but her own echo. "Nicky? Maritza?"

An empty, dark abyss of a building met her calls.

She wanted to call for her parents, but of course, this was about the last place she'd expect them to be. 

"...Is anyone there?"

No response. She stood up slowly, careful not to place her hands in the broken glass on the dirty floor. There was nothing else to do. Wrapping her cardigan around her chest again, she began to press forward. Black spiders with red spots on their backs skittered away from her path as she moved ahead, and by the time she came out the other side of the doorway...

Was she in her own house?

Hand grazing across the mildewy wall- Mom would never let the house get anywhere near this state- Trinity searched for a light switch. There was one for the hallway right outside of the bathroom, right between it and her bedroom.

When her fingers met the switch, she flipped it. It sparked, and...

Nothing. The house remained entrenched in darkness.

Sighing, Trinity wiped her hands on her skirt and headed for her bedroom.

What stood out immediately to her was the rag doll on the bed, one she hadn't seen since she was a little kid. Clearly modeled after Trinity herself, it smiled placidly up at her with empty glass eyes and an embroidered mouth. But stuffing was pouring out its back, and in the discolored cloud, she could make out the figure of something moving.

She stepped back. Another spider. What the hell happened to the house? There was no respite to be found in her bedroom. No comfort or reassuring familiarity. And certainly no sign of her parents.

That was fine. If there wasn't anything to do in the house, then she'd keep going. Carefully down the stairs and out the front door, she'd keep going. She'd keep going until she made it outside, where, from behind her, the shadows of gnarled trees seemed to cast the image of prison bars over the asphalt ground. It reminded her of Mr. Peterson. She turned around, away from his house, and went to look- since when had there been a forest there?

Carefully, she headed around the back of her house and past the tree line, continuing on even as the brush got thicker and thicker, until-

"Imbir? What are you doing here?"

At the soft meow and brush of the cat's head against her legs, she looked down, and there he was, big green eyes staring back up at her. He meowed again.

"I can't help you, Imbir," she said. "Go run back to the bakery. It's dangerous for you to be out here alone."

Imbir tilted his head, as if he could somehow understand the words she was saying, then arched his back, fur standing up almost straight, and she swore she could hear him say "no" as he did.

The first time Trinity had met Imbir, he'd been wandering around town rather carelessly, as if he expected the world to stop and go at his whim- which she was sure he did, after all, he was a cat- and she'd assumed him to be a stray. Knowing what she knew now, that he belonged to the bakery owner who she'd once heard laughing to Officer Neilsen about Mr. Peterson's arrest, it was a little discombobulating to see him walking about the town. But he was well-fed, if maybe a bit overfed, and everyone seemed to know to mind the cat, so Trinity assumed it was none of her business.

Imbir scurried a few feet ahead, then looked at Trinity expectantly. With nothing better to do, she followed.

As they descended, Trinity kept her eyes on Imbir. He was an ugly little thing, a fat cat with thin, stubby legs that reminded her of a wiener dog. His eyes weren’t quite the right shape, his ears were too small, and that hat he wore all the time only served to accentuate his unusually short neck. He was smart, though- what he lacked in looks he made up for in impressive observation and problem solving skills- so Trinity placed her trust in the hope that he was taking her somewhere she needed to go.

Which was silly, of course, he was a cat.

She followed him anyway.

It was when Imbir stopped that Trinity started to get concerned. He was yowling now, ears pinned back against his head, but he wasn’t looking at Trinity any longer.

She followed his gaze into the clearing he’d led her to and shuddered.

Before them, to Imbir's obvious dismay, was a giant...

Well, Trinity wasn't even sure what she'd call it.

It was a giant wooden spider, the same kind she'd seen in the house. With some kind of writhing sac attached to it and an hourglass figure carved into its abdomen, she was vaguely aware of what kind of spider it was- what kind of spider all of them had been.

What nearly slipped her mind was the way that it was swelling, splintering at the edges with a pressure she couldn't see.

Maa, Imbir yowled with a horrible desperation as he backed away from it, maa, maa, and as Trinity covered her ears, she fought off the urge to yell at him to shut up. They both backed up as if the thing was a ticking time bomb, like it was about to burst.

And then it did. The sac and the wooden body burst open, and from them erupted dozens- no, hundreds of smaller black widows, climbing over and covering their wooden mother, and then...

Devouring it.

Trinity screamed, she wasn't sure why, but something about the scene unfolding in front of her filled her with an agonizing terror. She stumbled backward, falling onto the muddy ground, and struggled to get as far back as she could from the sight of the near-cannibalistic destruction. Imbir was long gone. Trinity was alone in the forest, watching this thing get ravaged into nothing by spiders, and when the dust settled and the black widows dispersed, all that remained was a splintered mirror laying on the ground that she figured had once been inside the spider.

Carefully, and against all inhibitions, Trinity crawled on her hands and knees toward it.

Her reflection was disheveled, hair a mess, bloodshot eyes accented with dark bags. With its hand on the mirror, it looked up to face something she couldn't see.

Trinity did the same

And was met with the sight of Crowface,

Sporting two bloody, clawed black gloves.

She had no energy left to beg to know what they'd done with her parents.

Maa, maa, Imbir continued to cry from somewhere in the distance.

[cassidyafton]

M.I.A: Chapter 3

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: The fallout begins the next day at school.

Content warnings: Illness, harm to children, potential medical inaccuracies

"Are we just gonna pretend Delroy's been here the whole time?"

Trinity shrugged, leaning back on one of the clubroom's counters as Enzo reached behind them to grab a cookie from the tin on the counter. "He sits with you guys at lunch sometimes. It's not that different."

"Yeah," Maritza took a sip from her bottle of lemonade- a funny choice for how late in the fall it was, but that had been what the Esposito siblings had brought for their little hangout, along with sugar free alternatives for Trinity herself, so she couldn't complain- and rolled her eyes. "Because none of us have anywhere else to sit."

"You could sit with me," Nicky mumbled. "Wouldn't kill you."

"With you?" Maritza gasped dramatically and faked choking at the thought, but Nicky didn't laugh- that was becoming the usual. Maritza chuckled instead, but she didn't seem too confident as much as she did like she was trying to convince Nicky to at least smile.

He didn't.

"And anyway, Delroy was my backup when you and Enzo were out at the house," Trinity continued. "He agreed to help, so I don't see the big deal."

"The big deal is that he's an asshole," Nicky grumbled. "Why'd you even ask him?"

"Nicky, I know like six people and you guys are five of them. It was him or Finch, and I was not going to ask Finch."

She reached behind her and grabbed a couple more cookies, nearly bumping straight into Enzo's arm as she did- Oreo-like sandwich cookies had been the only sugar free option that the store had, according to Enzo, so to not make her feel left out, he and Maritza had bought Oreos for everyone else. She was familiar with the brand they'd bought, though she noticed now that the cookies were a little less sweet than usual, lacking the licoricey aftertaste she had come to associate with them. That was fine with her, though- the more unpleasant aspects of those foods had been a fair trade in her eyes for the ability to keep eating sweet foods after she had gotten sick.

"So, we've got a suspect now, thanks to Maritza and Enzo, and two potential locations- the Peterson house and the amusement park." She took a bite of her cookie- she hadn't noticed until now how hungry she was. "But the thing is, I don't want any more investigations happening that I'm not part of. So we need to devise a plan. Some way to outsmart them."

"And we aren't telling the police about this one, why?" Ivan asked as she finished her cookie, voice and expression as meek as Trinity had come to expect of him. Always a shy kid. She grabbed another cookie from behind her.

"I did. The police haven't done anything. They haven't even talked to me about it. And y'know what's weird about that?" She cleared her throat. God, when did her throat get so dry?  She needed some water. Had she even had anything to eat or drink before she came to school? "Guess which cop they put on the case."

"No way." Enzo's eyes widened. "Kornwell?!"

"Kornwell!" Trinity repeated. "They put Officer Kornwell on the case, and I guess he's just been sitting around with his thumb up his-" she cleared her throat again. "Sorry. Point is, he's clearly not worried about what happened to my mom and dad, so someone has to be."

"That creepy crow thing seems to be plenty worried about it," Nicky added.

"Which is all the more reason we need to worry!" Trinity coughed. "Sorry. Sorry. My throat's really dry right now." It came out almost defensively, and she wasn't totally sure why. "But we need to worry about my parents because that thing is also worried about them." She took a sip of her lemonade. "This is serious. It's not just another mystery. People are in danger. So we handle this like we handled Peterson."

"It's gonna be a lot harder when we don't even know who we're following..." Ivan chimed in again, voice shaky.

"We'll be fine. We've got each other's backs, after all. Besides, there's no reason to be scared! You're plenty brave."

"I... I am?"

"Psh- no." Maritza rolled her eyes. "She's just hyping you up to get her to do what she wants."

"Oh."

"You guys." Trinity sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Another sip of lemonade would probably stave off the headache that was starting to form. "We needed every one of us last time. Whatever's going on now, it's all hands on deck." She held her hand out.

Maritza's expression briefly turned to sympathetic concern as she eyed Trinity's hand. "Dude, you're shaking."

"I'm fine." Trinity shook her head. "It's not important. What's important is if you're in or out."

Enzo put his hand in on top of Trinity's, gently cupping the back of her palm like he was going to guard her and not the other way around. "I'm in. Ivan? Nicky?"

"This feels like a wrong turn." Nicky frowned. "Someone's going to get hurt."

Trinity shook her head. "I'm not going to steer you guys wrong. But if we don't do this, someone will get hurt."

Nicky leaned back, but Ivan reached forward and put his hand in. Delroy shrugged and did the same.

"Maritza, it's on you. Are you really gonna quit a game before it's over?"

"I'm with Nicky, this is a dumb idea." She scoffed, but before Trinity could open her mouth to defend it, she put her hand in. "But I'm not a quitter. Let's go for it."

"Yes!" Trinity pumped her free hand. "Inventor's club on three. One, two, three-"

"Inventor's club!" The cheer echoed through the room as they raised their hands. But when she looked back at Nicky, he somehow looked even more exhausted than before. She briefly wondered if this was something he would've done with the rest of the club before what happened with Mr. Peterson- before she even came to Raven Brooks. She took a step back, reaching again for her lemonade, and stumbled over herself, barely catching her balance on the counter.

Everyone was looking at her weird when she looked back up.

"Jeez, girl!" Maritza cried. "Are you okay or are you not?"

"I'm fine," Trinity repeated, though it was a bit of a struggle to catch her breath. "I'll be fine. There's more important things going on right now. Besides, I'll be fine by the time of the meeting this afternoon- then we can start discussing plans. Delroy, you joining us for the meeting?"

Delroy shrugged. "Might as well, if I'm gonna be helping out."

"Then we'll plan on it. I'll see you all at lunch?"

"That sounds like a good cue to leave."

The kids jumped- through what felt like a sudden jolt of shock to Trinity's brain, she could make that out- and she directed her focus to the clubroom door, where Mr. Murtaugh, creepy guy that he was, was poking his head in. Were it not for the fact that she had him for science, and he seemed at least decently well-adjusted, if a bit eccentric, she might be suspecting him to be behind something like this.

"Class is starting soon," he continued, sporting his same gummy smile as usual. "I wouldn't want you kids to be late."

"Right." Trinity nodded slowly. "Thanks, Mr. Murtaugh."

Taking that cue, she headed for the door slowly, as to keep her balance- she didn't need the others looking at her like that again, like she was incapable or weak in some way. She hardly paid attention to the counter they'd left a mess, or the tin of cookies that'd gotten knocked over. She chuckled to herself, though, wondering if any of the others had noticed that they must've been getting into her sugar free cookies.

Maybe this sickness would go away by the time of the actual club meeting.

-

"Trinity!"

Trinity jumped a bit- another jolt of shock to the brain that seemed to make her vision go blurry- as Enzo approached her. "Enzo, hey."

"Where were you at lunch?" Enzo asked, his expression that same one of sympathy and worry that it'd been when she'd fallen in the clubroom that morning.

"I'm fine," Trinity responded. Only after she said it did she process that it wasn't an answer to his question. The truth was, she'd spent most of that lunch period pacing between the halls and the first floor girls' bathroom, fighting off a persistent dizziness and the urge to vomit. She didn't want to admit that, though- so maybe the situation was getting to her, but her friends didn't need to know that.

"We were worried about you," Enzo pressed.

"I said I'm fine, Enzo," she repeated as she sped up a little bit, nearly stumbling over herself again as the dizziness hit her again with a vengeance. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'm alright, really. We've got more important things to worry about, anyway."

She reached for the clubroom door, hoping Enzo would ignore the way she struggled to get a grip on the handle. 

"Anyway, I was thinking during class, and we've got a few ways we can go about this. Once everyone else is here, I'll go over it."

"Ah, Trinity, Enzo, there you are."

Trinity recoiled again, her vision more than beginning to blur from the shock, as her focus struggled to fix on the source of the voice. She reached out and leaned against the chalkboard on the wall for balance.

"Principal Abanante?" Her brow furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Abanante clasped her hands together and smiled. "I overheard some of the conversation this morning, and I just thought I'd step in and make sure everything we're doing is, well, legal. Things we would want to be encouraging at the middle school."

Trinity clutched her forehead with her free hand and squeezed her eyes shut, briefly removing her other hand from the chalkboard to pull the purple cardigan she'd worn today over her chest. "Look, I- I understand, but now isn't a good time. Can we talk about this later? Please?"

"Well, my dear, I'm worried this is a more pressing matter than you might want me to think it is. I know you kids are wound up after what happened with Mr. Peterson, but it's important that we don't cloud our judgements with fantasies. I'd hate to have you sneaking around harassing some poor sap who hasn't really done anything wrong in hopes of solving another mystery."

"It's not-"

"Are you sure you're okay?" Enzo asked.

"No! I mean- yes, I'm..."

"-Fine?" Maritza finished. Trinity could hear her voice drawing nearer. "You don't look fine."

"No, I... I am, I just-"

She stopped abruptly, swallowing back the acid rising in her throat, and opened her eyes. She was shaking again, so nauseous she could barely stand up. And there it was- everyone was looking at her like that again. 

"I think it's just stress." Abanante smiled sympathetically and tilted her head just like that goddamn crow had done. Her stomach turned. This was wrong, this was all really wrong. "How did you sleep last night? I'm sure things have been hard these past few days with your family."

"What did you do?" Trinity choked out, unable to help herself. Her voice was weak from pain, and that only made everyone else's pity worse. "What did you do to my parents?"

"I think you need some rest, Trinity. I'll take you to the nurse's office."

"No, no- no-"

She couldn't form any more words than that. As Abanante reached for her, her attempt to pull back became a jolt in her arms and a buckling in her knees. She felt her head hit the chalkboard before she recognized she'd been falling. She heard the others' confused cries before she realized anything was wrong.

The sugar-free cookie tin was the one that was knocked over.

All she knew was that she couldn't see anymore.

[cassidyafton]

M.I.A.: Chapter 2

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: Trinity meets her enemy.

"You're really not going to let this go, are you?"

Maritza's tone was a combination of annoyed and sympathetic as she watched her brother almost frantically pace around the living room from the couch.

"I can't," Enzo answered, continuing his relentless but aimless walking as if it was going to reveal to him some answer, some way to ease his obvious panic.

She sighed, glanced around to ensure their parents weren't listening, then stood up, leaning so heavily on her crutch that Enzo thought he was going to have to catch her to keep her from falling.

She waved for him to follow her. "Let's go."

"What? Where?"

"You said she was carrying one of those Golden Apple coins. Peterson had a freakin' million of those things. There's probably a clue back at his house. That way you help Trinity, she doesn't get hurt, and we can put this crap to rest." She grinned sardonically. "I bet Trinity will just love that, won't she?"

"Okay, okay, point taken." Enzo waved his hand, covering part of his face that was already turning red. "I'm right behind you. But be careful with your leg, okay?"

-

"...I don't think I can do this."

Nicky looked exhausted, and Trinity frowned. It was worse than she'd expected, almost- there were dark bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept at all, his hair was messy and his posture was slumped like it was a struggle to stay up. All around, he just seemed... uncomfortable, and beyond tired.

She was sure, though, that their choice of meetup location probably didn't help much. The amusement park's entrance was dark and cold, oddly foreboding despite just being an abandoned park. A light breeze that carried a few leaves and the calls of ravens rustled the bushes and trees around them in a way that set off red flags in Trinity's mind, the kind that screamed at her that you're not alone- even when you think you are.

"Nicky..." Trinity sighed.

"I just can't," Nicky repeated.

"I know you're on edge right now," Trinity offered. "Trust me, I get it. I just... need someone to help me out. But if you can't do it..."

Footsteps. Nicky cried out in shock and the two of them turned around to face it.

"What-?" Nicky glanced at her suspiciously.

"Maybe Delroy can."

"No. No, no no." Nicky shook his head. "Absolutely not!"

Delroy shrugged. "Thought you just said you couldn't do it."

"What do you know about any of this?" Nicky challenged.

"Just about as much as you, from the sounds of it. Trinity's parents got kidnapped, and you're too scared of getting caught again to help her out."

"Delroy!" Trinity started, but before she could say anything, Nicky grabbed at him. Holding him by the collar of his yellow jacket, Nicky practically growled. He was shaking, and Trinity couldn't tell if it was anger or maybe some kind of fear- or maybe even just the cold.

"You stay out of this. You don't have any idea what we've been through. What I've been through!"

Delroy shook himself out of Nicky's grasp and shoved him away.

"Will you two stop it?!" Trinity cried. "Now isn't the time for fighting!"

"If you'd told me he was coming-" Nicky pointed in Delroy's direction- "I wouldn't have come at all."

"I know." Trinity nodded. "I couldn't tell you. But I figured you might still be shaken up, Maritza and Enzo didn't pick up the phone, and Ivan was too scared, so-" she sighed. "I invited Delroy as backup."

Nicky's glare didn't falter. Before Trinity could figure out anything else to say, she heard another rustling sound- not just the breeze, but footsteps.

She turned around.

You're not alone.

Her eyes landed on a figure in the brush.

It was tall- tall enough to be an adult, to be certain, with large shoulders and arms that Trinity could barely make out. Dressed in a black cloak, it almost looked just like a shadow- the only thing that gave it away was the yellow of its giant beak.

She had seen that before.

"That's it!" She cried, pointing toward the figure. "That's the guy that was in my house!"

The figure bristled, turning its face right toward Trinity.

"Hey!" She called. "What did you do with my parents?"

It turned away and began to run. It was fast, and as Trinity began to pursue it, she almost wasn't sure that she could catch up. Delroy was quick to follow, but when she turned around, Nicky was still standing there.

"Nicky." She reached for his hand, her voice stern. "I need your help. Are you in or out?"

Nicky looked uncertainly at her, then at Delroy. Then he nodded. It wasn't quite determination that she saw in his expression as much as it was spite, but he was agreeing nonetheless.

"Then let's go!" She took his hand and began to run again, with him stumbling to keep up with her.

The wind and cold air was enough to make Trinity's extremities nearly go numb, and she struggled to keep Nicky going at her pace without losing her grip on his hand. She could hardly feel most of her face or her ears. Her braids were blowing into her face, and she could hear Delroy and Nicky's uneven footsteps behind her. But she couldn't focus on anything but the crow-faced figure they pursued. She had seen it looming over her bed, as if it were a caregiver about to tuck her in. It had run when she saw it, and by the time she'd made it out of her room, it was gone without a trace, and by the morning, so were her parents. There was something in the way it looked at her, even without visible eyes, that felt almost taunting.

Keep your nose out if this one- I'll know if you don't.

Well, whatever it was, standing silently in a clearing in the forest with its back to them, it knew now.

The kids came to a stop, Nicky barely keeping his balance on the muddy ground as they did.

"What did you do with my parents?" She asked again. "I know you took them."

It turned its head to the side, as if to look at Trinity from the corner of eyes it didn't seem to have.

"Don't make this difficult," she continued, as if she had any power over the situation. "I'll keep digging until I find out what you've done."

Thunder began to rumble in the distance. Trinity bristled.

"I'm not scared of you!"

Its head turned further, as close as the thing could get to getting it all the way to face them, then it slowly turned the rest of its body in tandem.

As the figure stared, tilting its head at them, a flash of lightning blinded them. And as a flock of ravens- an unkindness, a treachery or a conspiracy, she'd read they were called- began to swoop down, it disappeared.

And then they heard the croaking from behind them.

It was like a woodpecker knocking against a tree. Were it not for the fact that all of them were on edge already, they may have just brushed it off as that. Instead, when they turned around, there was the same figure.

Not quite as tall at it had seemed at a distance, the figure held out an arm, pulling what appeared to be a clawed black glove further up its wrist. On its arm landed a raven.

"GET OUT," it croaked.

"What did you do to my parents?!"

"GET OUT," it repeated, ignoring her question. It swung its arm in a motion not quite like it was going to hit her, but Nicky yelped and pulled her back anyway as the raven on the figure's arm- and with it, its treachery of mates- began to fly right toward them.

She barely had time to process anything but the ravens. Not the way she slipped and covered her fancy mary janes in mud, not the flash of lightning, not the disappearance of a familiar black-cloaked, crow-faced figure in her peripheral. Not Nicky's stifled screams or Delroy's curses. Not her own cries of pain. It happened too fast- pecking and swiping their claws at the group, they blocked Trinity's vision entirely as she struggled to fight back against them, but by the time she got them out of her face, it was too late. The three of them were covered in scratches and dirt, and there was no sign of the figure.

Trinity struggled to catch her breath, examining her hands and feeling at her face. It stung, at least, if that said anything about her situation.

"Did you see where it went?" She turned back to the others, to no response- nothing but glares from both of them. "We have to follow it. If the amusement park was a false lead, then that's our way forward."

"I think we should go," Nicky said quietly with a shake of his head and a wipe at his bleeding cheek.

"And I think I have to agree." Delroy crossed his arms. "You know where these crows have been? We'll probably get all kinds of diseases from this."

"We can't-" She paused, then sighed. "We'll be back. I'll be back, at least."

Nicky's gaze fell to the ground, and it was at that point that Trinity realized he was shaking. No wonder, too- he clearly hadn't been expecting a rainstorm, having come in just a t-shirt and shorts like he usually wore. But the weather was getting colder, and so she fought back the urge to tell him he really should've brought a jacket.

Her expression softened. "I'll take you home, Nicky."

-

The house wasn't empty when she returned. Her parents were still gone, obviously, but Enzo and Maritza were waiting in the dining room when Trinity passed it.

"Did you two... let yourselves in?" She asked with a furrowed brow.

"We had to talk to you," Enzo replied. "We went to Peterson's-"

"What?"

"We went to Peterson's," Maritza repeated, clearly annoyed with them having been interrupted, "and we found a crap ton of those weird coins Enzo saw you playing around with."

"And!" Enzo interrupted, to Martiza's visible chagrin, "There were more pictures on his weird conspiracy board than when you went that first time! There were pictures of your parents and your house- Peterson knew something weird was going to happen!"

"Why did you go to Peterson's?" Trinity asked. "You know that could've been dangerous. The cops could've arrested you for trespassing, you could've gotten caught by Crowface-"

"We did, actually," Enzo chimed in. "But we got away."

"You shouldn't have gone without at least telling me! I could've kept you safe. I mean- Maritza is injured, and you- what if something had happened to you guys? If you'd told me, I could've taken care of it. Or at least I could've come with."

Maritza groaned, but Trinity ignored her, eyes fixed on Enzo. It had been one thing when Enzo had gone in for Nicky, but this was different. The house was full of exposed traps and police now, and with Crowface on their tail, it was dangerous to be going anywhere alone- and what could Maritza do to protect Enzo if he got hurt?

Her stare was a silent challenge. Tell me your safety is a lower priority. Tell me it's okay if I lose someone else I care about.

"Well- what if you'd taken care of it?" Enzo returned. "Then you'd be risking getting hurt alone. If Maritza got hurt again, I could help her. If you did- I mean..." He shrugged nervously, his timid demeanor returning. "It's even more dangerous."

Trinity sighed. "I just- I would much rather be leading these kinds of things."

"We were trying to help," Maritza added as she pulled out her phone to show Trinity a picture. "Anyway, it looks like Peterson had his sights on your parents and Abanante. So there's our first suspect, right?"

"Right." Trinity nodded, scanning the picture intently. A picture of her parents and Abanante.

She'd never noticed Abanante tilted her head like that.

[cassidyafton]

M.I.A.: Chapter 1

Summary: Tired as she is of the whole "being the only person to realize someone is in danger" schtick, when Trinity Bales's parents disappear the night after her rescue mission, she once again takes on the role of the rescuer in hopes that she and her appointed "rescue squad" can get to the bottom of the mystery of her parents' absence before whatever's taken them from her can have its way.

Chapter summary: Trinity wakes up one morning to find her parents gone and a mysterious note in their place.

The fog of last night had cleared up when Trinity Bales woke up that morning, the screeching of a raven in her open window her only pull to the real world out of a quiet unconsciousness. No calling from her mom, no conversation from downstairs. She tucked one beaded braid behind her ear and glanced over at her alarm clock.

It was almost 8am. Trinity jumped, throwing herself out of bed as she stumbled for her dresser. Ten minutes to get ready, leave and be at school before she would get in trouble for tardiness. Why hadn't her mom called her? Had her parents slept in? Had they needed to leave? (For what? Mom worked from home, and Dad had no job.)

"Mom?" She called as she struggled to tear off her pajama top and replace it with one of the white button-down shirts her mother insisted on ironing every weekend. "Mom, I'm late! Can you drive me to school?"

Nothing. She pulled on a plaid-print skirt and some black tights and tried again, but if Mom was going to drive her, and especially if she still had to walk, she had to be ready.

"Mom, I'm late!"

No response. Brushing out the creases in her skirt, she hurried down the stairs.

"MOM?"

The kitchen was empty. No Mom complaining about that one coworker of hers, no Dad humming to himself as he worked his way through breakfast.

Trinity frowned.

"...Mom?"

The whole house was empty, actually. As she glanced around, she couldn't find even a single sign of life on the first floor of the house, and there was certainly no noise from upstairs.

Okay. That was fine. She just needed to get her phone, and she could call her mom. Maybe there was some kind of explanation- some reason that the house had been left abandoned and Trinity sleeping in upstairs. Once she got ahold of her parents, she could ask.

She nearly tripped over herself going back up the stairs for her phone, she couldn't help it- she was completely thrown off her rhythm. At least one thing was still in place, that being her phone on her nightstand right below her open window, and...

Had she left her window open last night?

She wasn't sure, even as she shut it now. So much had happened last night, between Nicky's rescue and the crow-faced creep she'd found in her bedroom later that night, that maybe closing her window had been the last of her worries. But nothing had been stolen, and there was no way that creep who'd gotten in did so through the window, so there was no harm in it, as long as Mom didn't find out.

Which it didn't seem like she was going to.

As she hurried back down the stairs, she dialed her mom's number, once again nearly tripping over herself down the stairs- which would've been much more catastrophic- and waited.

She heard the phone ringing through her speaker, and then from down the hall.

Carefully, she stepped into the office.

"Mom, are you there?"

The room was empty, save only for the vibrating phone on Mom's standing desk, and a piece of paper beneath it with Trinity's name written on the top. Some sort of a note to her, maybe? When she was young and Mom and Dad still worked outside of home, sometimes she would come home to notes like this stuck to the fridge with magnets. Maybe Mom just forgot to remove the note from her desk and left in a hurry. Maybe...

She disconnected the call, ignoring the missed call notification on Mom's phone, and pulled the paper out.

You won't find them where you're looking, it read. Keep your nose out of this one- I'll know if you don't. You're not alone, even when you think you are.

Lose the coin, lose your life.

GAAP

Trinity's stomach sank.

Taped to the paper was a small golden coin.

She knew immediately who had sent the note- the same creepy crow-faced figure she'd seen sneaking around her house last night. She wasn't alone then, even when she thought she was. Who was even to say she was alone now?

She whipped around, as if about to confront a figure, that, of course, wasn't there.

Get it together, Trinity, she scolded herself.

Hands beginning to shake, Trinity stuck the coin in her skirt pocket, and started to dial another number into the phone.

"You've reached Raven Brooks Middle School," A familiar voice over the other end started. "This is Valeria Abanante, how can I help you?"

"Hi, Principal Abanante. This is Trinity, uh, Trinity Bales... I'll be a bit late to school today."

"You already are," Principal Abanante remarked.

"What I mean is that I've got... a bit of a family emergency right now. I don't know if I'll be able to come in."

She could practically hear Abanante frown. "A family emergency? Can I talk to your parents?"

Trinity grimaced.

"That's the thing."

-

A few people were staring when she stepped into the outdoor cafeteria at about noon that day, hair barely brushed, shoes barely tied, blue jacket hanging off one shoulder. Most were unbothered, some seemed suspicious- and then there was Enzo.

"Trinity!"

He gave her a red-faced smile and waved her over, but his expression turned from enthusiastic excitement to sympathetic concern when he took in her expression. She blinked and shook her head, making her way toward the table; she hadn't realized she looked that bad.

"Hey." She smiled to Enzo as she sat down.

"So, as I was saying," Ivan started, with very little acknowledgement to Trinity's presence, "If they're really considering a science fair, it should at least be extra credit if it's optional. Otherwise, what do they gain from it? It's not spreading an interest in science to anyone- no one who's not already interested will join!"

Enzo frowned. "How do you know about all this?"

"My dad's on the school board." Ivan said it rather proudly, as if it was his accomplishment and not more so his dad's. 

Trinity looked around.

"Where's Nicky?" She asked.

"He stayed home today. Where were you for the past four hours?" Maritza returned.

"Home," Trinity sighed. "Something weird happened."

Weird was maybe a good way to describe the looks the others gave her.

"Man, are you really getting dragged into some new mystery?" Maritza scoffed. "We just put Nicky's whole Peterson thing to bed."

"It's not just some new mystery, okay? It-"

Trinity sighed again.

"It's nothing," she conceded in a somewhat condescending tone. "I'm just worried about my parents who have been missing for thirteen hours, that's all."

Maritza's brow furrowed. "Your parents?"

Trinity nodded. "They- or whoever took them- they left a note for me addressed from the old amusement park. They said I won't find my parents where I'm looking. I don't assume they'll be there, though, either."

Enzo nodded slowly, seemingly deep in thought. "Too obvious. If they wanted to keep you from knowing where they were, they wouldn't address a note to you from their location."

"Enzo," Maritza warned. "You're not getting involved."

"I can handle helping out a friend."

"And get yourself killed?"

"I can take care of myself, Enzo," Trinity said, accompanied with a gentle smile so it didn't sound too harsh. "Thanks."

"See?"

"Just- let me know if you change your mind!" Enzo grinned awkwardly. "I can help with anything you need help with!"

(Trinity made a mental note to maybe take Enzo up on that offer once Maritza wasn't at their throats about it.)

-

When Trinity's parents still hadn't returned that night, she made another call. It took a few tries before Nicky picked up, but Trinity was persistent.

"Hey." Nicky sounded almost just as tired as he had last night, and that made Trinity wince with guilt over her plan to ask him to immediately go running off with her again.

"How are you?" She asked.

Nicky mumbled something she couldn't make out. "Tired," he replied. "What's up?"

"Look... something weird is happening, and I thought you might know something about it. Well-" She stopped- that sounded too much like an accusation. "I mean, I haven't... seen my parents in a while. I think something happened to them, and I was just wondering if you remembered... those golden apple coins? In the house?"

"Yeah?" Nicky's voice rose a bit, which certainly didn't make Trinity feel any more secure about her situation.

"Someone left me one." She rotated the coin between her fingers. "From the old amusement park. Can you meet me there? I'm gonna need your help."

[cassidyafton]

just within reach

Summary: (old, written during mania) Something has taken over Vanessa's head. She can't get it out. What it wants is just within her reach.

Content warnings: Violent/cannibalistic intrusive thoughts, suicidality(?), harm against children, not canon compliant (sibling AU)

The sound of the ticking clock is Vanessa's only friend, counting down the minutes until her little brother returns from school, her only respite from the thing in her head.

That voice in her head that isn't hers.

And the horrible things it wants her to do.

VANESSA.

"No. I'm not listening."

Weeks of this thing... Vanessa is sick of it. Always demanding her around. You will hurt them. Forcing her to do his bidding, make him "real", give him a new body. Make him eternal. She doesn't even know what it all means, or why she needs to...

"I'm not listening," She repeats. "I'm not."

YOUR BROTHER. GREGORY.

"I told you I'm not listening."

WHEN GREGORY RETURNS HOME FROM SCHOOL TODAY, YOU WILL KILL HIM.

It's not a question, or any kind of simply request. Hardly even a demand. He says it like he's stating a fact. She will kill him.

"No!" She exclaims. "I'm not going to hurt Gregory!"

IT'S NOT A QUESTION.

YOU HAVE TO DO IT. YOU WILL KILL HIM.

YOU WILL FOLLOW MY PATH, VANESSA.

Its voice is low. Vanessa covers her ears tight, trying to block it out. No, no! Get out. Get out! I won't hurt him! I won't hurt anyone!

YOU LET ME IN, VANESSA, the thing insists. She squeezes her eyes shut.

"Liar!" She shouts back. "I didn't-! I didn't let you in! Get out of my head!"

Her head is throbbing. It feels like her eyes are going to rupture, or maybe her skull was broken from the force of whatever the hell just happened, and it's impaling her brain, stabbing through it. That would explain the burning pain.

YOU LET ME IN, the voice repeats. AND NOW WE WILL BE ONE.

YOU WILL KILL HIM. YOU HAVE TO.

"No. N-no!" She stumbles to her feet. "You can't make me do anything. I won't be your g-goddamn pupp-!"

Her voice is gone. It's not gone, but her throat seems to have closed up. She can't speak.

OH, DEAR VANESSA, it says, almost mockingly. She can hear the smile in its voice.

Her knees buckle suddenly, folding in toward one another, and she stumbles, trying to keep her balance.

Without any control over it, she feels her arms shoot up. Her wrists are limp and her hands hang down, but she stops falling, as if she's being held up by the wrists.

Like a puppet on a string.

I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND.

With a great deal of strength, Vanessa forces her head up.

And then she sees it.

The rabbit is almost thirteen feet tall, and it looks like a huge version of the ingame Springtrap animatronic. Its body parts are crudely stitched together at the joints, and look unstable as if they could rip into pieces at any second.

It stares her down with piercing silver eyes, then grins widely, revealing a series of razor-sharp teeth, and raises a clawed hand out, and despite her terror Vanessa has to wonder why a rabbit would need such predatory features.

Without any say in it, Vanessa's right arm mimics its movement. It tilts its head sideways, shifting its floppy ears, and Vanessa's head moves the same way, until her neck is aching, sore, and feels like it's about to snap.

YOU HAVE NO SAY IN IT ANYMORE.

It disapparates suddenly, and Vanessa crumples to the floor.

"WHERE ARE YOU?!" She demands, struggling to pull herself up.

WHERE AM I?

OH, VANESSA, DEAR, I NEVER LEFT YOU. I NEVER WILL.

YOU WILL MAKE ME REAL AGAIN.

YOU HAVE TO KILL HIM.

This is torture. It's sheer torture, and she has to stop it. This thing wants her to kill. It wants her to mutilate, take innocent lives, take children's lives. It wants her to gut them, rip out their organs, slit deep into their veins and pull them apart like strings. She can see the gore in her mind's eye, feel the itch of drying blood on her flesh and viscera right in her hands. This is what it wants for her.

(It's so real she suddenly wonders if this is where she really is, and she was imagining everything leading up to it.

She can hear police sirens. Her heart stops for just a second.

The little boy before her is dead. She killed him. And now the police are after her.

She's a monster. A beast. Holding an innocent child's innards in her hands like a trophy.

Like a predator to her prey- and she's as hungry as one.

There's no consequence. She's beyond them. Too far gone. Nothing more to lose. She's hungry. She needs to eat. The predator needs its prey. The hunter needs its game. She needs to eat.

She forces the boy's liver between her teeth and bites down.)

A scream escapes her throat, robbing her of all the air in her lungs. How could she think such horrific things?! 

"Get out," She pants. "GET OUT!!"

In a burst of desperate energy, she scrambles to the kitchen, resisting the rabbit's pull to keep her in place, shuffling through the cupboard for a sharp knife. Stumbling for control of her body, she backs herself into a corner.

"Get out," She repeats, positioning the small blade right above her jugular. "Get out of my head. I'll kill myself. I'll kill us both. Don't make me put this knife though my fucking neck. Get out."

Dead silence.

"Get out!"

She can feel its presence, challenging her. Daring her to do it.

"GET! OUT!!!"

With an agonized scream, Vanessa shoves the knife to her neck.

Then, just as the blade pierces her skin, the grandfather clock at the end of the hall begins to chime and Vanessa goes limp, crashing down onto the floor again. The knife clatters against the ground. She strains to try and reach out for it, but the rabbit must have her under its control, forcibly subduing her. She can hardly even move her fingers, no matter how hard she focuses.

It's tantalizingly close to her, but she can't even outstretch her arm enough to grab it.

She doesn't feel trapped, necessarily, but like her body is just too limp to move.

The clock finishes its short tone, and Vanessa finds herself relieved. It's 3:45pm. Gregory got off school fifteen minutes ago. The school bus will come by to drop him off any minute now.

A pang of guilt hits her- before she became a beta tester for that game, she took out a bit of her boringly extensive free time and drove Gregory to and from school on days their parents couldn't. Whether or not he would be coming with her to her house. Even if it was out of her way to take him to their mom or dad's.

Now, she doesn't trust herself in a car. Too afraid the rabbit would take over and make her crash it to kill him.

The image of Gregory's bloody, mutilated corpse, face burned and disfigured, glass from the windows skewering his torso, bones all broken and skin ripped and bruised...

It haunts her.

If there's any way, any way at all, she wants to save him from herself, so now Gregory rides the bus most of the time.

With what little strength she has, she looks up at the window to watch for the ugly yellow school bus that will come to drop off her brother. Her safety. Her protection.

When the bus finally approaches, Vanessa finds the strength to get up. Abandoning her attempt at offing herself before the rabbit can do anything or hurt anyone through her, she grabs the knife any stuffs it into her pocket to hide it.

There's a small knock at the door, and then a voice from the other side.

"Ness?"

"Come in," She calls, surprised by the strength in her voice. given everything, she'd expected it to be weak and raspy, if not completely gone.

Gregory peeks in carefully, looking back and forth, before evidently deciding he can, in fact, come in.

Vanessa rolls her eyes as she approaches, but she can't help but smile at her brother's mere presence. "I wouldn't tell you to come in if I wasn't ready, hon. Just knocking is enough."

"Yeah, I know, but I don't wanna...!"

He's visibly flustered. Vanessa can't help but laugh.

"Hon, I haven't had another girlfriend, let alone even had a girl over since the one time you walked in on me and April together. And anyways, that wasn't even a big deal- you've seen people kiss before."

"Yeah, alright... I just felt weird about it! Even though April was nice about the whole thing..."

Vanessa smiles. "Anyway, ex girlfriends aside-" She takes both of his hands- "How was school today?"

Gregory's eyes seem to lose their light. He awkwardly scuffs his shoe against the ground. "Same as always," He grumbles.

"Boring?" She finishes.

"Very boring," He corrects. "It's even harder to enjoy school when you don't have any friends..."

His frown hurts her. She struggles to look for a way to make it better. "Here... tell you what, hon, how about we do something together to get your mind off all that crap?"

Gregory can't fight the smile that the words bring. "Yeah, that sounds awesome!"

His hug catches her off guard, but she gladly returns it. He makes her safe.

KILL HIM. KILL HIM NOW. HE'LL NEVER SEE IT COMING. STAB HIM IN THE BACK.

The voice startles her and she tenses. No! No, I'm not going to hurt him, I'm not, I... I...

I... I wonder... what his flesh tastes like.

DO IT. KILL HIM. DRAW HIS BLOOD.

DRAW HIS BLOOD.

Draw his blood. Draw his blood. Draw his blood.

Slowly and carefully, she shifts to pull the small knife out of her pocket, then raises her arm back around to position it right below the back of his neck.

Don't think about it.

Don't think. Just obey.

You will obey.

She makes a quick, deep slice into Gregory's neck and feels hot blood spill onto her fingers.

"Ow!" Gregory cries. "Ow, ow, ow, ow..."

The pain etched on his soft features cuts Vanessa deep as she realizes what she's done.

She cut Gregory's neck.

She drew his blood.

She cut their ties.

He is no longer hers, no longer her baby brother, her respite. Her safety. Her protection.

She has chosen the rabbit over him.

He lifts his hand to his neck and finds blood, but Vanessa is numb, numb to the fear on his face, to the way the kid looks to her for guidance.

"Oh, geez, are you okay?" She asks, feigning concern to her best ability. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Gregory admits.

"Alright, it's okay. It's just a cut. Why don't we get you patched up, and then we can go out somewhere together?"

Gregory looks hesitant, still worried about the cut- and the glimmer of something shiny he swears he saw in the sleeve of Vanessa's baggy, pink striped sweater.

"I'll even drive. How about that?"

His eyes light up. "Wait, really?"

She gives a fake smile back, and for a second, just a second, a remnant of guilt twists in her chest.

"Of course! It's been a while since I've been able to take you out, hasn't it?"

[cassidyafton]

as if i make space saved for placelessness

Summary: Metal Sonic is found by an old friend after being abandoned by Eggman.

The tree cracks upon impact as Dr. Eggman is thrown into it, then Sonic himself. They fall from the hit against the tree to the ground below, crashing to the earth in a heap. Eggman furiously struggles to get Sonic off of him, angrily grumbling and insulting him as he does so. Sonic tumbles onto the ground, his face in the dirt. It happens so fast that a small, blue flicky bird gets caught in the depression in his chest. He wonders if the processors or jet mechanism in his chest will cook it to death if he doesn't stand up.

He thinks about that. He loved these little animals so much. He'd never have dreamed of hurting one before. Not any animal, especially not a flicky. They always loved him so much. If he'd have killed one back then, he would have never forgiven himself.

He doesn't move.

Sonic doesn't know where they are now. The "real" Sonic's attack must have sent them pretty far. He threw Dr. Eggman from his small ship, and sent them off into the jungle. It's a surprise they ever stopped moving, now sitting at the bottom of a massive hill.

His flesh-and-blood wannabe had torn Eggman's capsule of small animals to waste and thrown out the two of them like it was nothing. Sonic's body aches from the attack. Just one attack. It's painful. It's so painful. It's horrid that the only real sense that remains to him is pain.

"DAMN THAT STUPID HEDGEHOG!!"

Eggman screams in anger, thrashing against the ground. He hits and kicks like a toddler having a tantrum, and Sonic feels his metallic body burn with fear. He still doesn't move. It's not like he has anything to do, anywhere to go if he runs. The doctor's base is his home, the doctor himself the only connection Sonic has.

There's a twisted irony there Sonic hates.

Eggman stands up, and Sonic can hear a growl in his breath. "Come on, boy," He commands.

Sonic hates the sound of Eggman's voice. He can't find the strength to move. Not under Eggman's pressure. Not when all he wants to do is resist, but resisting will only cause him pain.

Is he resisting now? He doesn't know.

Eggman kicks his head to get his attention.

"Come on," He repeats, more angrily this time. His voice is growing into a yell. Sonic hates this. He hates everything about this.

He still doesn't move.

"What's the matter with you?" Eggman barks, kicking Sonic harder. "You got cotton in your ears? Come ON! You want me to leave you here? Take you back by force and dismantle you? We're GOING! NOW!"

Sonic is facing the doctor now. He wonders if Eggman can see the barely masked distress in his eyes. He wonders if he would care if he did. Probably not.

He knows Eggman's second threat is in vain. He knows he has a power Eggman can't replicate in his genuine bots. He knows the doctor needs him in that regard. He's the only part of his army that can really stand against Sonic's organic fake, without the power to resist- he can't even speak.

He doesn't have the strength to do anything. He lets his neck go slack and falls into the earth once again.

"Oh, I CAN'T STAND YOU! Just stay here then, why don't you? Know damn well I'm not coming back for you! Stupid bag of bolts!"

Growling under his breath, Eggman storms off, leaving the exhausted, stressed, and worn Sonic behind as his power begins to drain, coming down from the adrenaline of the fear Eggman's anger fills him with.

His system informs him it's currently 12:44PM JST, Monday, June 29. It buzzes in his head. He closes his eyes to save charge, and without his consent, his mind begins to wander from the basic information he runs through to distract himself.

Sonic doesn't know how old he is now. He doesn't remember how old he was when he'd been taken away from them and put into that awful machine.

Time didn't really feel like it stopped for him, but it's never felt like he's been growing up.

He should be.

It's so unfair. That's the only thing Sonic really feels nowadays. He feels wronged. Everything that's happened to him has been unjust. He should be growing up. He should be running around at the highest speed he can, but he doesn't have that kind of drive nor freedom. He should be hanging out with Miles. Nowadays he spends most of his time around the kit trying to destroy him. He should be talking and laughing with his friends, making quippy jokes at Eggman during battles. He doesn't even have a mouth anymore, let alone any allowance for free will. It's cruel. He has more consciousness, more awareness than any of the roboticized before or after him, but he has no more privilege of expression or freedom. He's the only one who has no mouth, no means of speaking or expressing himself. It's only him, and it's torture.

One small failure was all it took for him to lose his childhood, and his status as a hero, and his entire life. Now he serves at Eggman's side like a slave.

He can still remember the way it felt when his mouth was closed up for the last time. As his flesh, muscle, tissue, blood and bone become nothing but worthless metal. His nerves remained untouched, and he felt every second of it. The pain, the horror, the last tears he would ever shed are burned into his mind.

He was only a kid.

It's not fair.

-

When Sonic wakes up for the first time, he doesn't know why. There's a rumbling in his chest. The glass around his eyes feels more tense, tighter than before. He's still beaten up from the battle with the rat that's taken his place.

He closes his eyes, waiting for his systems to recalibrate and reconnect to Eggman's network.

It's cold. The tension and frozen feeling in his metal shell tells him he's been out in the cold for a prolonged period of time.

As his system reconnects to the database, his one source of understanding anything anymore, horrible as it is, he's greeted with the information that it's currently 5:45PM JST, Thursday, September 24.

He's been asleep for three months, and he's just as tired as before.

But looking at it through the organic lens of "sleep," he supposes, is incorrect. He's not sleeping. His system shut down to preserve him, and he hasn't gotten any charge or repairs those three months. Of course he'd still be tired.

He mentally kicks himself for trying to imagine himself as a living, organic being. Still. He knows he's not. He hasn't been for just as long as he ever was.

He's been powered down for three months. Eggman really did never come back for him.

When he opens his eyes, he finds himself surprised at how little he can see. His vision is obscured by red, orange, yellow, brown leaves around him. The grass underneath him is just as beige as it is green, the whole area around him having taken on the orangey hue of autumn.

The orange makes him think of Miles.

He can't remember his face.

The flicky under his chest shifts and attacks wildly, desperately searching to get out. Sonic scans his memory to determine if it's trying to get out to fly away before it freezes in the winter.

This species of bird doesn't migrate, no- perhaps it's just angry that it's stuck. Or maybe it's suffocating, or the processors really are burning it up, or it's expended what food it may have been able to find in the small patch of earth available for it.

Sonic lazily sends a focused command to his chest region, shocking the bird a little bit to shut it up, and lazily lays his head back down, too numb to care about getting up before he freezes. Maybe if this body dies, Sonic will too.

He doesn't really want to die, but his daily living is torture. Maybe it's just in his lazy state of low charge, but he really can't find the urge, the drive to get up and stop himself from freezing to death in the dropping temperatures.

-

Sonic has a dream for the first time in a long time. Mammals dream to help process their memories. Robots have no need for such things. Sonic's memories are so vague, so distant that he has no need to dream either way.

In his dream, the first thing he feels is his jaw locking.

No.

Sonic wants to scream. He can't utter a word. There's a burning electric shock in his throat keeping him silent.

Not again.

Smooth skin begins to grow and shift over his mouth, forcing it shut. He claws at it with his hands, trying to pry it back open. The electric shock is riding up into his mouth, triggering and stimulating growth inside it, like a mold placed between his jaws. He can't move it.

He can't scream. He can't fight or cry out for help. He can't even cry. His eyes are burning, the electricity ripping at him from the inside. It's spreading. Closing up his insides. Reforming his body into something unnatural. Cold, hollow, empty, but it burns. He never stops feeling it.

It's spreading.

His legs buckle. He screams. The sound echoes in his head, and never makes it out. His vocal cords are gone, burned away by the shock. Like he's being burnt up by lightning. Static is overcoming his vision as his eyeballs threaten to burst from the tension, and in the back of his head, he hears his own tortured screams.

And it just keeps spreading.

The thought festers in him. Despite being out cold, he's fully aware.

He lays and tries to shake it off and sleep. He just wants to sleep.

Instead, he spends seconds bleeding into hours bleeding into days festering in the memory.

Not that the passage of time means much of anything to him anymore.

-

When Sonic wakes up again, he knows why this time. Impact to his head. A kick.

Something rises in his chest- he doesn't know if it's hope or horror. Did Eggman come back?

He waits to hear his voice.

Instead, he hears the snow crunch from behind him. Someone tripped over him.

Eggman didn't come back.

From his rerouted connection to Eggman's network, his system informs him it's currently 7:11PM JST, Friday, December 25. Christmas day. It's been six months since he was left behind.

He's been out for six months now. The frigid weather has set in his metal shell. The cold aches him to the core- his core being the only thing still warm. Beside that, he's completely surrounded by snow. The tension in his eyes has finally let up, but now it's a stinging pain, and he realizes that the cold has cracked the glass. His vision through that eye is blurred. The bird has nestled in his chest.

How ironic that he'd worried he'd cook the thing to death, but it ended up protecting it from freezing.

Half-heartedly, he lifts his face to see who'd bumped him.

A quick scan of the child reveals them as 8 year old Amy Rose. A young tag-along to Sonic's team, pink in coloration, with green eyes and a physique somewhere between that of a hedgehog and an echidna.

Dressed in her most comfortable green sweater and favorite orange skirt. Her rosy-pink quills are pulled back with a red headband, leaving only the short ones hanging on her forehead.

The girl who'd loved and looked up to Sonic before he became this.

Amy shrieks, jumping back and shielding her torso with one arm as though expecting him to attack.

Part of him begs to take in her appearance, her face, as long as he can, because he doesn't know when he'll forget her again. The faces of his friends are so loose and faded in his mind.

Instead, he turns his face back into the snow, hoping to power down again.

He's brought back into reality by a loud crack. Then another, and another, like whatever is cracking is spreading.

Six months ago, when Sonic and Eggman had been thrown into the tree that stopped their fall after his organic fake's attack, it had cracked and begun to tip. He doesn't move or try to look up or toward it, but that must be the tree that's cracking now.

He doesn't move. He lacks both the energy and the will. Even at the final split of the trunk, or as it begins to fall. He lays still.

His sensors are screaming at him about an imminent impact. the broken tree descends on his body. It triggers no survival response. He does nothing, and yet-

"METAL!"

At the last second, he's grabbed and yanked away, and then one hand is on his shoulder, and Amy is panting from the sudden rescue, on her hands and knees in the snow with him.

He turns to face her. He can barely see her from his damaged eye.

As soon as he does so, Amy leaps to her feet and screams, pulling out her hammer. With another terrified scream, she hits him in the head with it. It aches, but he barely reacts. Gasping and panting in fear, she hits him again and again, but each hit slows. Eventually her breathing has calmed, and she lifts her hammer from his head one last time, quieted by his inaction.

"O-oh..." She mutters. "You're just..."

Her hands, covered in thick, white mittens, come around his shoulders, and she lifts him up.

"There. Now just what are you doing out here in..."

She trails off as his chest begins to rattle. How he hates that feeling. The flicky bird forces itself out, finally ridding Sonic of the awful sensation of it crawling out of his chest. Dazed at first, it begins to fly off- not before taking an angry hit to Sonic's head. Sonic tries to run through his memory for when he did whatever it was he did to anger the flicky.

His neck is still slack, and his head topples aimlessly at the hit.

Still reeling from the rattling of the bird in his core, his weak body begins to give out. His knees buckle. He falls back onto the snowy ground.

"...Right, you can't talk, can you?"

He shakes his head.

He'd love to talk. To ask her why in the hell she's helping him at all when all he's done since she's seen him like this is kidnap her, and try to destroy her, and make attempts on the organic Sonic's life, and serve at their worst enemy's side. But he knows her, or at least he knew her, and he knows the answer he'd get.

"You're hurt."

She looks down at him sympathetically.

Then a few scattered snowflakes, the beginning of another snowfall, catch her attention.

He sees her green eyes green eyes remember that she has green eyes light up with an idea. Another sympathetic glance to the damaged Sonic on the ground, then her expression hardens, like she's made a choice.

"I'll get you back to the doctor," She declares. "You shouldn't have to spend the winter out here!"

If Sonic could speak, he'd beg her not to. Or at least, he thinks he would. The truth is, he's not sure of that. He doesn't want to be with Eggman, but it's far better than the prospect of staying here. And it's not like there's anywhere else for him to go- after all, Eggman's base is his home. The world isn't big enough for two Sonics, and that fake has taken everything from him, even his place in his own world.

Even though he has the perfect opportunity, he's too numb- he provides no resistance. Amy grasps his foot and begins to tug, dragging him in the direction of the base.

Despite the walk being almost entirely uphill, Amy never complains once. He hears her groan under her breath a few times, but she says nothing to him. She seems so certain this is what she wants to do. Because it's the "right thing."

Amy was always like that.

Now she stands at the door of the massive, industrial base of Dr. Eggman, and she still doesn't falter. She gives Sonic a smile, and helps him up. He hangs dejectedly, but only his feet remain on the ground. Amy is trying so hard.

Sonic's legs remain stable in sympathy for her kindness, but he still rolls his eyes when Amy places a red ribbon- the exact same color as her own headband- on his forehead.

She shoots him a thumbs-up and runs to ring the doorbell. Before it even begins to sound, he sees her come back to his field of view to run away- but then she stops.

"Wait, here," She says, digging through the pocket of her most comfortable green sweater. Finally, she pulls out a yellow-and-red flower, and takes Sonic by the wrist.

She places the flower in his palm, and ever so gently, uses her own paw to close his fingers around the flower.

"Offer it to him. For Christmas."

She takes him by the shoulders and turns him around to face the door.

"Good luck."

With that, she scurries off, and he recognizes the sound of the snow crunching as her hiding behind a rock to watch.

He clasps his hands together, trying to mimic the way Amy had done it.

Then the door opens.

Dr. Eggman doesn't look angry to see him, and that's a good sign. There would be no benefit to still holding a grudge against Sonic's defiance this long later. Leaving him battered and too low on power to do anything himself for half a year was punishment enough, surely.

Eggman takes the flower from Sonic's offering hands, and examines it. His brow furrows, and he looks away disapprovingly.

Despair pits deep in Sonic's core. He's going to leave him out again. He's going to leave him to freeze. It won't kill him, but damn it, he wishes it would.

But Eggman's next action surprises him. He lifts Metal Sonic under one arm. "There you are," He mutters dismissively.

With that, he turns to bring them both back inside, but for a moment before the door closes, Sonic sees Amy's excited smile. She really seems to feel like she's done something right.

Sonic envies her joy.

He's trapped in a world where the only connection he has is the one who turned him into this monster. It's something, at least, but... that doesn't make it something good.

He flexes his metal fingers, the hand Amy had so tenderly placed the flower in. He tries to preserve the memory of what that moment of connection to an old friend had felt like before she'd left him at the mercy of Dr. Eggman.

[cassidyafton]

EARLY WARNING SIGNS OF GHOSTLY POSSESSION: CHAPTER 1

Summary: Freddy's crash in December wasn't an isolated incident.

Chapter summary: Freddy's technicians find a disturbing file in his system after a sudden system overload causes him to crash.

Chapter content warnings: Allusions to gore and child death

The trouble began in March- if you asked Anna Kwento, at least.

Truth be told, Anna didn’t care for her job too much. Not little enough to neglect making sure it was done right, but little enough to be deathly bored whenever she didn’t have a (generally uninteresting, as a rule of thumb) operation to supervise.

The glorified Roombas they called S.T.A.F.F bots weren’t working as optimally as the company had hoped, though, which meant that Anna was scheduled and called in regularly to supervise… everything. In general.

It was not the most entertaining use of her time.

So, as she did during most of her shifts, she sat and absently scrolled through her Twitter feed, absently taking in the garbage on her page and her surroundings both at once. She half paid attention as a little girl, about six to nine, approached her, but paid her no mind, assuming she’d get along on her way soon enough.

She didn’t.

Anna put her phone away.

“Hey, kiddo! Welcome to Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex.” Anna smiled as much as she could as she crouched down to the level of the little girl- who, now that Anna had a better look, appeared just about 7 or 8 years old. “What’s your name?”

A simple script- a confused or lost child approaches her. She smiles, welcomes them, and asks their name. Not overbearing, but not intimidatingly cold.

When they say their name, she parrots it back to them, says something nice, and asks if they need help to make them feel welcome and able to trust her to help them.

“M-Molly,” The girl managed, twisting and intertwining her fingers anxiously.

“It’s great to meet you, Molly!” Anna replied, taking in the kid’s appearance. She was dressed in a blue dress with a red tulle outer skirt and black shoes, and her blonde hair was pulled into pigtails, sporting orange streaks at each side of her bangs. “You look lovely today. Do you need something?”

“Not me.”

Anna’s smile fell. “Pardon?”

“I don’t need anything. It’s Freddy. There’s a problem with him.”

“A… a problem?” Anna echoed, frowning.

Molly nodded. “A problem,” She repeated. “He’s being scary.”

Anna felt the blood drain from her face.

“…Scary how?”

Molly swallowed, balling her fists around her fancy skirt, and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “He’s not moving right. He’s just standing and making weird noises and breathing kinda scary.”

Her breath hitched.

“Freddy doesn’t breathe, Molly,” Anna said in an attempt to be reassuring. “He’s just a robot. There’s no reason to be afraid.”

“But he’s being scary,” Molly whimpered, looking ready to burst into tears. “He’s not supposed to be moving and talking like that!”

“H-hey, it’s okay!” Anna said quickly. “These things happen sometimes. Here, I can go take a look- I’m supposed to check up on everything in a minute anyway. Why don’t you come with me?”

Molly sniffled, then nodded, trailing behind Anna as they walked.

“Have you been here before, Molly?” Anna asked, trying to keep Molly happy so she didn’t make a scene.

Molly shook her head. “I’m on spring break at school now. Mama took Jack, Laney and I as a special day.”

“That’s great. Have you guys been having fun?”

“Jack and Laney think this place is silly. But I like it.”

“Well, I’m glad you do. I’m sure your friends will warm up to it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course! I mean, you think this place is cool, don’t you? What’s your favorite part?”

“Freddy.”

Anna grimaced. “…What about a second favorite? Any other characters, parts of the restaurant? The arcade? Maybe the play area or the raceway?”

“I don’t like any of the other characters as much as Freddy,” Molly complained.

“Not even a second favorite?”

Molly hummed, seeming to consider the idea. “Roxy! She’s all super cool with her raceway and everything! Is her keyboard real?”

“Of course,” Anna lied, knowing her boss would have her head for breaking the illusion to a child. “How else would she play it?”

“Mhm! Jack says it’s a fake, but I think he’s just lying to make it seem dumb.”

Molly smiled proudly, and Anna let herself relax a bit, feeling that she’d managed to handle the situation well enough.

At least, until they approached Rockstar Row, and Anna became aware of the chatter of a crowd of children who seemed to be crowding around Freddy.

So much for not making a scene.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Go ahead and play with your friends now, okay?”

Molly nodded and hurried away, clearly still disconcerted by what she’d seen.

The crowd of children all crammed together, faces pressed against the glass opening to Freddy’s green room, barely parted for Anna to pass through, leaving her to struggle and worm her way to the front.

Just like Molly had said, Freddy was still, just twitching, his shoulders sort of rising and falling like something trying to breathe, and Anna could hear strange noises, muffled by the glass wall.

She felt sick.

“Okay, everyone!” She called once she’d finally forced her way up. “Freddy’s having a bit of a bad day. Everything’s fine, but we’re going to need some space to handle it. If anyone knows what happened, let me know, and then hurry along so I can call one of our technicians to take a look, okay?”

She heard a sudden clank from inside, and glanced out of the corner of her eye-

Was Freddy… looking at her?

“Come on now, kids, we’ve gotta check up on Freddy, okay?”

Finally, the children began to disperse, leaving behind only three- two younger, and one who appeared about fourteen, dressed in all black with black and blonde hair.

“Do you three know if anything happened?” Anna prompted. “Did anyone do something? Was anything weird happening?”

“I saw it from the outside, if that helps at all,” The girl chimed in.

“Honey?”

She looked down at the little boy who’d called for her attention.

“If you’re gonna be talking to her, can we go?”

“No,” Honey said simply. “This place is too big. You can stay in this hall, but if I catch you leaving your mom’ll have my head.”

“But no other kids our age have to be followed around like this!”

“No other kids your age have a track record of getting lost half as long as yours,” Honey scolded. “You’re staying here until I finish.”

The boys grumbled and trudged off disappointedly.

“Don’t go trying to leave because you think I won’t see,” She called after them, then redirected to Anna. “I’m so sorry about that. You know how kids can be.”

Anna nodded in understanding.

“My name’s Honey Fitzgerald. I saw when he malfunctioned, so I’ll do my best to help. Let’s see…

I guess I didn’t really see what happened before it, but I heard this really nasty sound, like microphone feedback. When I looked over to check, the lights inside were flickering, and the ones in his eyes were, too. On top of that, he was moving weirdly, and making weird sounds beyond the feedback noise- like he was trying to breathe.”

“But you don’t know why?”

“Um… no. I mean… the light flickered over the Bonnie sign and went out after it started. Maybe the lights are going wrong and it triggered an audio glitch? I’m not too big on computers, sorry.”

Anna hesitated, mulling over the thought.

Finally, she nodded. “I’ll pass that along. Thanks.”

Honey nodded and headed off to find the boys she seemed to be accompanying.

Now that the area was empty, Anna turned around and looked at Freddy once again.

He was staring at her, no doubt about it.

And…

Even though the animatronics were bolted down in their green rooms to prevent any accidents, one of his legs was off the bolts, and he was standing differently.

With shaky hands, Anna reached for her walkie-talkie.

“Can I get Raha Salib to Rockstar Row? I’ve got a problem.”

-

“Okay, okay. Run the story by me one last time?”

“Freddy was bolted down in his green room, and there were kids in there. But then he just stated glitching. The girl I talked to didn’t know why. She said he just started moving weirdly, making sounds like microphone feedback and breathing, and the lights started flickering. It freaked a bunch of kids out, and I had to tell them it was totally normal.”

“Which is why we shut the curtain and locked the door for his room instead of putting up the out of order sign,” Raha finished, relatching Freddy’s face. She wiped her forehead of the small sweat droplets forming and readjusted her purple hijab.

“I guess I was hoping it is just something small.”

“It is,” She said finally. “Something is taking up too much RAM. That explains the movement and audio malfunction- it was trying to clear up space by shutting down programs, and it looked like it freaked out.”

“Should I call in someone else?”

Raha nodded. “I’m more of a physical technology person than a computer programs one.”

Anna nodded, slipping her walkie-talkie from her belt loop again.

“Can we get Nora down in Parts and Service?”

Static crackled on the other end for a moment, then Nora’s voice came through the staticky speaker.

“What do you need?”

“We’ve got a RAM issue with Freddy, causing audio, movement and eyelight glitches. We need you to work through it if you’re free.”

“Don’t you have Raha down there?”

“She isn’t authorized.”

An audible sigh coughed its way through the speaker.

“On my way right now.”

Almost as soon as Nora turned off the receiver, Anna heard the elevator rumbling, then it dinged as the doors open and Nora stepped out.

Anna smiled. Nora may have been constantly annoyed with the entire job, but she did her best to get things done, even if it was just to stay on top of the stress, making her among the more reliable of Anna’s coworkers.

She sighed again, clearly annoyed, as she grabbed an extension cable to connect Freddy to the computer outside the protective area for maintenance.

“An, do me a favor and open up his stomach hatch.”

Anna nodded, slipping her fingers into the crack and prying it open.

“You can head out, Raha. I’ll handle it.”

“Thanks.”

The door opened as Nora entered, and Raha and Anna stepped out.

Nora emerged a moment later and scanned the computer.

“Okay. We’ve got a glitch that caused him to copy an mp3 file and turn it into an mp4, which started running and took up too much space, I think…”

She frowned. “But the ‘happy birthday’ mp3 is only 20 seconds.”

“And how long is the video?”

Nora hesitated, running the mouse over the video file.

“Oh, damn. No wonder he’s having storage issues. It’s almost twenty minutes! Something is definitely screwed up with the computer.”

Nora clicked to delete the file, then entered the protective area.

“If my suspicions are correct,” Nora explained, “It’ll convert another mp3 into a video when I turn it on. It’ll probably cause another crash, but at least I’ll know the source of the…”

“Nora?”

“What?” Nora sighed.

“The video file just reuploaded.”

“…What??”

Anna pointed to the computer, and Nora hurried out.

“It’s the same ‘happy birthday’ mp4 again,” Anna continued. “We might just have to delete both files and reset the system.”

Nora groaned. “I swear to God, these stupid ‘personality’ chips are the worst fucking thing. Couldn’t they just perform the way they do onstage and have that be enough? An, do me a favor and delete the mp4. I don’t want to screw with the mp3 yet.”

“I’m not authorized either.”

“Do it anyway,” Nora retorted, clearly growing increasingly frustrated. “I’ll have your back if you get in trouble for it.”

“Fine.”

As Anna clicked to delete the video, Nora pressed and held Freddy’s power button, forcing him to shut down.

The computer went black, and in the silence, Anna suddenly became aware of the buzzing of the dim lights, and just how much of the large, dark and musty room she had her back turned to.

A chill ran down her spine, and she tried to will herself not to listen to the quiet rustling and skittering behind her.

She gritted her teeth.

Stop it, Anna.

Nora sighed, brushed her fingers through her side-shaved black hair, and pressed the power button.

And Anna couldn’t help the scream that escaped her as both Freddy and the computer sprang to life, letting out an awful noise. Freddy lurched forward, hitting the floor with an ear-splitting crash, and Nora jumped back, barely avoiding getting crushed.

“Holy shit!” Nora cried. “Holy shit!”

Nora was trembling when she exited the area, and for a moment, Anna saw what had happened.

Freddy was on his hands and knees on the ground, his shoulders heaving intensely like he was trying to breathe, complete with those weird wheezing sounds that had been reported. The echoing sound of Freddy hitting the ground with all his might escaped as the door opened.

Freddy was trembling. He looked horrified, his face twisted into the most unexplainable expression, one that should have not been even possible- eyes too wide, eyebrows too twisted, mouth pulled into a grimace too real. He stared blankly in what seemed to be horror, and it was only as Anna tried to take in his expression more that she realized his eyes were completely white.

But a dark fluid was building up in them, dripping down onto the floor below.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” She admitted. “I don’t know what could possibly be causing this!!”

“Can we at least try to get him back to a functional state?”

“I don’t fucking know!!” Nora barked. “Look at that! What do you expect me to do?!”

“Shit, I- I don’t know…!”

“I need to have him out for now. If he reacts to an emergency restart like this-”

“Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

“Look, I’ll work overtime tonight and everything-”

“Nono, I’m just worried you’ll have the manager down your throat-”

“Y’know what, Kwento?! FUCK that asshole!!” Nora shouted suddenly. “FUCK him, I can’t stand this! Impossible tasks on even worse time limits to keep the ‘children’ happy, I can’t deal with it! If that dumb son of a bitch wants to haul his own sorry ass down here and fix it himself in the next ten minutes before the kids start getting impatient instead of putting it all on me, I’ll fucking welcome it.”

Anna hesitated, and the two stood in tense silence.

“I can have him presentable before the day’s end, and that’s it. He won’t be even close to functional until I can have some more time to look at it.”

-

“Is Freddy okay?”

Anna heard the question before she processed what she was seeing- almost fifteen kids were crowded around the door to Freddy’s room, and Anna had to push a few away from the door so they couldn’t try to sneak in.

“Freddy is…”

She hesitated.

“Freddy is fine. He’s just not feeling too well. We’ll have him back before the end of the day, but it might be a while before you guys can play with him again.”

“Aw, what?”

The kids groaned and complained, as though expecting her to relent.

One of the kids, however, said nothing, until everyone had stopped whining.

Once they did, he spoke up.

He spoke so quickly, as though he was trying to avoid attention, that it took Anna a moment to process his question.

“Yeah, what IS wrong with him?” Another kid chimed in.

“We…”

Well, she couldn’t say they didn’t know, not if she didn’t want to make this a bigger problem than it needed to be to the kids.

“We think he’s caught a bug that’s overloading his system a little bit,” She said finally.

A few more voices piped up from the crowd.

“A bug? Is he sick?”

“No, it’s a computer term, idiot.”

“Hey,” Anna scolded. “Don’t talk to each other that way. You could think of it as getting sick. There’s something in him that’s making his body do things it shouldn’t. That’s like getting sick, right?”

“See? I was right!”

“No you weren’t, dumbass! She said that to make you feel better!”

“Hey!” Anna repeated. “That is enough. You do not speak to others that way!”

The kid blushed, clearly embarrassed at being called out.

“Sorry.”

“I’m not the one to be apologizing to,” She responded. “Does anyone have any more questions?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Is Freddy turning evil?”

“What? No!”

“My brother said that the animatronics used to be evil!” The little Molly girl added in. “He said they were haunted and they killed people!”

“Well, he was lying. They’re not evil, and they’re not…”

Freddy had been breathing. Really breathing. He wasn’t just moving erratically, it was with a purpose. And those sounds were coming straight from him, not a speaker or a computer, but him.

And those eyes…

“And they’re not haunted,” She finished firmly. “I promise you, everything is okay.”

-

Damn it.

The one thing Nora Pacheco hated more than her job itself was the stress it put on her. She was overworked with ridiculous expectations, and always had so much on her shoulders. Her manager was useless, her bosses were painfully demanding, and the job itself was so intense, she rarely had a second to breathe.

…Really, she didn’t hate anything more than her job.

And yet, here she was, working overtime at almost midnight to fix this stupid bot.

What kind of glitch even was this? It converted an mp3 to a video file, multiplied the size by nearly sixty, and then started running the file unprompted, leading to an overload and partially shutting down the system.

…Leading to him managing to step off his bolts, and breathe, and overflow and spill that weird black fluid…

Was he being hacked?

Scanning through the files for any other signs of any issues with the mp3 and audio play commands.

But the longer she looked and the less she found, the more it began to look like the ‘happy birthday’ mp4 was completely unrelated to the audio file.

And the preview image in the computer wasn’t the simple black or white background Nora would have expected.

It appeared to be… a person. A child, at that.

An image of a child hue-shifted to red.

Stomach twisting, Nora clicked on the video.

It was blood. Not a color shift, it was blood. Blood and brain matter.

The child was dead.

Unable to tear her eyes away from the kid, she barely processed the shaking hands of an older boy at the corners of the screen. The rest of the older boy was off-camera, but she saw his hands. They trembled and rattled like Nora had never seen, and she could hear a voice that must have been his breathing heavily and sniffling, trying not to sob aloud.

A small cry slipped from him, and Nora’s face fell in horror as he took his hands around the child’s face, first gently holding his freckled cheeks, then digging through his curly hair like he was going to try to fix the breakage.

And then he did.

As the boy let out a sob, Nora heard a split second of the nauseating noise that sounded when his hands were pushed into the child’s injured head, and then-

An error tone rang.

Access to this file was not authorized by your administrator.

Clasping her hands around her mouth, Nora leaned forward, trying desperately not to puke.

She didn’t know what she’d just seen; she didn’t even know how to comprehend it.

Was it a threat? A stupid hoax? Maybe just a scene from some horror movie?

She needed to make sense of this. She needed to understand it. She needed to fix it. She needed help.

She needed to go home.

Freddy blinked, turning to her with an almost saddened expression.

“Alright, Freddy,” She managed, trying to hold back her fear. “What is that? What’s going on?”

She didn’t expect him to answer, of course. She was just trying to keep herself from giving in to her terror. Maybe talking would help her through it, for some reason.

Freddy wasn’t even supposed to be able to answer. She was just running test commands on him. He wasn’t able to hear, process or respond to anything.

But he did.

He cocked his head, and twisted his plastic facial plate. His eyebrows turned upward, his mouth shut tight, and his eyelids turned in, making him look almost hurt.

And he spoke with a voice deeper and raspier than normal.

“I… am not… me.”

-

“Alright, we got a creepy idle mode malfunction from a RAM overload, responding like he’s in idle mode in test mode, fluid leakage, audio glitches, and a video hacked into his system?”

“Not hacked,” Nora corrected. “It was from our network.”

Mark Cho, the tall man who had now taken Nora’s place at the computer, shrugged. “It could’ve been a hack anyway. If they got onto the network first, the video would have been sourced from the same place as all his other files.”

“Fine. Then yes, you’ve got all of it. He said ‘I am not me’ when I asked aloud what was going on. I guess he was trying to cycle through his responses and ended up with that. I think the problem is that video, but…” Nora shuddered.

Mark glanced over at her.

“But every time we try to delete it… it just… uploads again,” She finished. “My… my hypothesis was that it was some sort of glitch converting the mp3 file to a video, but… that video was not his birthday protocol. I don’t know what it was, but…”

“From what you told me, it sounds like it came from a horror movie,” Mark suggested.

“Mark, it was twenty minutes! What movie would have a quarter of its runtime dedicated to that?!”

“Final Destination?”

“You’re not funny, Mark.”

“What about Saw?”

“Cut it out.”

Mark snickered. “Sorry.”

“Right,” Nora sighed. “For the record, I’m not saying I think it was a real kid dying. I just… it’s seriously horrific. And I didn’t see nearly the whole thing. I’m telling you, if it was a hacker, that’s the smallest problem. I can’t for the life of me figure out where they found that footage.”

“Do you think it’s a ghost?”

Nora hesitated. That was about the last thing she’d been expecting to hear, but-

No.

“Cut the crap, Mark.”

“I’m being serious.”

“No, you’re not, you dick.”

“I’m dead serious. It could’ve been a message. It reminds me of that old story of the bite of 1983? They could be trying to stir up crap from the past.”

“Mark, you asshole, that’s not a ghost.”

“Sure it is.”

Nora groaned. As kind as Mark could be, he was also a smartass, and he refused to just speak straight most of the time. He always insisted on joking instead of telling it like it was, and Nora could barely stand it.

“Okay, say it is this ‘ghost’ of yours. How do we get it to stop? Whoever wants to remind everyone of this weird ‘null’ past, how do we get them to cut it out?”

Finally seeming to take it seriously, Mark frowned. “Not sure.”

“I guess we could isolate the file and clear the commands making it take up so much space,” Nora suggested. “Will that keep the ‘ghost’ at bay?”

“I mean…” Mark shrugged. “It’s worth a try. If we can clear that extra data, we can probably get him back in working order.”

“Didn’t answer my question.”

Mark grinned, and Nora rolled her eyes.

But his smile faded.

“Nora, the video deleted just fine once it was in a different folder. Did you not try that?”

“Look, I tried to delete it and it just fucking reuploaded,” Nora shot back. “I don’t know what was going on, but it wasn’t deleting, okay?”

Mark frowned. “It’s fine now.”

“Okay, well it wasn’t last night! None of it makes sense… I’m not making this up, Mark. I’m not crazy.”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“I’m serious, I’m not!!”

“I know!” Mark raised his hands in surrender. “Look, I can handle the rest of this. I don’t think you’re crazy, you just need a break.”

Nora sighed.

She knew Mark was right, but admitting that would feel like, ironically, admitting she was losing her mind.

But she knew she wasn’t.

She knew what she’d seen.

“I am not me.”

She knew this was real.

“Fine, I’ll take a damn break,” She said finally. “But if you come out of this thinking I’m insane, I’m quitting.”

Mark rolled his eyes.

Nora glanced at Freddy again.

Even though she hadn’t moved, he turned and stared back.

…His face didn’t look quite right.